


The Lucky Ones

by chiltonspanties



Category: Hannibal (TV), Leap of Faith - Menken/Slater/Cercone
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Hair-pulling, M/M, Scratching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-01-27 21:00:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1722389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiltonspanties/pseuds/chiltonspanties
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The esteemed Dr. Frederick Chilton learns of a visitor to Baltimore who promises to save souls, heal the sick, and forgive sins, but only for three days before moving on to the next town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're a Careless Con, and You're a Crazy Liar

**Author's Note:**

> Shamelessly named after "Lucky Ones" by Lana Del Rey

It was unusually warm for a day in early April—the sun shone brightly through clear skies as a soft breeze blew back the hair of Frederick Chilton. A stylish wooden cane took a little of his weight, his grip on the silver top a little too loose to confirm a need for it. It wasn’t often that the psychiatrist took walks, but it was such a nice day and Frederick’s schedule was mostly clear for the remainder of the afternoon that he decided he deserved to enjoy it. It had been a long road before Frederick could believe he deserved to enjoy little things like this, since Abel Gideon, doctor, madman, and former patient of Dr. Chilton left him with a nice scar and some not-so-nice self-hatred stemming from the idea planted in Frederick’s mind that he was responsible for Gideon’s madness. After the incident, Frederick further closed himself off from the world and took time away from his work, doubting his ability to be a proper psychiatrist to anyone. The scar running down his abdomen haunted Frederick the most, serving as a physical reminder of all that was already circling through his head. Avoiding as much contact with the bit of raised skin as possible left Frederick still uncomfortable with it, and because of this, even now a part of him was still stuck on that moment, still trapped in the shell he created.

Looking to the clear sky, Frederick smiled slightly as two birds flew through his field of vision towards the trees on the other side of the road. Frederick followed the small black birds with his eyes while he continued walking in the warm sunshine, losing himself in the little signs of spring all around him. He became so absorbed that everything around him faded away and he was at peace until—

“Three nights only!” a female voice and southern accent called as Frederick was hit in the chest by her hand and the piece of paper in it, making him stop in his tracks. “Reverend Jonas Nightengale will be here to save your soul, cure you of your vices, and ask the Lord for your forgiveness!” the short blonde woman spoke to all who passed by her at once, but did not acknowledge anyone individually. Before she could notice him, Frederick pushed himself to move forward as he looked at the flyer. It read almost exactly what the blonde woman had said—that Jonas Nightengale, reverend and supposed healer, it seemed, would be somewhere in Baltimore for the next three nights to save souls and cure ills and blah blah blahh. As Frederick scoffed at the idea of a travelling “reverend” and “healer,” a handsome man in fitted jeans and a blue button-down shirt, open at the top to reveal a white tank and gold cross around his neck caught his eyes. A blush spread across Frederick’s cheeks when the man caught his gaze and winked back at him. “There you are! Jesus Jonas, do you know how long I’ve been out here?” The voice of the blonde woman travelled to Frederick, the words making him put two and two together to realize the man he had passed was the “Reverend Jonas Nightengale!” himself. Frederick felt the butterflies in his stomach settle with disappointment because the handsome man (very handsome, actually, as Frederick would later recall) who took enough interest to wink at him was the same scumbag offering up false hope, taking people’s money, and driving off to the next lucky town before the previous one knew what hit them. Disgusted, Frederick went to throw the obnoxiously bright flyer in the trash bin ahead of him, but his sentiment got the better of him and took control, making his hands fold the paper and slide it into his jacket pocket.

 

Despite his original distaste for the situation, that night Frederick picked out one of his better suits—a well-fitting jacket/pants combo with a plaid tie and a pocket square of matching color that complimented his skin tone. If one were to ask Frederick why he’d picked out such attire, he would say it was _of course_ because he hardly wore it and had forgotten he’d had it and _certainly_ not because he wanted to impress the handsome reverend who he _obviously_ loathed for his _disgusting_ job taking money from the desperate and hopeless. Perhaps lucky for him, Frederick didn’t _have_ anyone to ask about his suit. Checking himself over one more time in the mirror before grabbing his cane and heading out the door, Frederick felt the butterflies return to his stomach while nervous fingers fumbled with his car keys. What did he have to be nervous about? It’s not even as if this “Reverend Nightengale” would see him in the audience, and he didn’t have to give any money (though he took a fair amount) if he didn’t want to, so what was there to be so anxious about? Why was he even going to this stupid thing anyway? For a moment, Frederick thought about turning the car around, but then he realized that he was almost halfway to the address on the flyer sitting on the empty passenger’s seat next to him, and pressed on.

 

Frederick’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as he pulled up to the building. An astounding amount of cars lined the street on both sides, and Frederick was surprised to see the people hoping for the “salvation” they believed this Jonas Nightengale could provide. They walked in small groups toward the entrance where the blonde woman from earlier that day stood wearing a headset. Frederick searched a minute for a parking spot, finding one a short walk from his destination. He loved flashing his cane about, using it to assert authority with his patients and colleagues, but there was still a part of Frederick that believed he truly needed the cane to get around. He’d admit to needing the cane, but he’d be damned if anyone thought he was getting a handicapped placard, so Frederick parked his car down the road and made his way to the building under his own power.

The building was an old arts center, now hardly used, but equipped enough with a still-usable auditorium for Mr. Nightengale to put on his show. Frederick made his way through the outside doors and past the short blonde woman to walk down the hall towards the theater. On each side of the hall, doors to rooms once used for painting classes and pottery making hung heavy in their frames, numbers to their sides worn like those in an old high school. Most of the corridor was a dank reminder of days past, but where the auditorium doors opened, a nearly holy light shone like a bright beacon as instrumental gospel music travelled to Frederick’s ears. A corner of Frederick’s mouth turned up into a half-smile at the theatricality of it all, but it soon faded as he entered the room and saw the abundance of people in the auditorium seats, anxiously waiting for their chance to be saved or healed. It wasn’t a particularly large theater, there was a large section of seats in the middle, with another on either side, but the number of open seats was quickly dwindling. Frederick looked around at the sparse empty seats and chose one he believed was far enough away that the reverend wouldn’t catch a glimpse of him in the audience. As he sat waiting, Frederick glanced around again at the people among him waiting in the audience and wondered their reasons for being there. Some, he was sure, truly believed Nightengale was the real deal and came to be healed-some of drinking, some of gambling, some of adultery-that was sure. Others probably came to _see_ if he was the real deal, skeptical of his ability to cure people of their vices and communicate with “the Lord,” possibly having things of their own they may want him to fix, but being too afraid to believe in Nightengale. The rest, Frederick decided, were like him: people who weren’t really sure why they were there. Some of them were lost, not knowing what to do with the mess of their lives, while others merely saw the flyer and were compelled to go by some force they could not explain.

Just as he was pondering a particular family of a young mother and three children, Frederick’s thoughts were interrupted by a sudden surge of energy and the lights dimming to focus attention on the stage before him.

“Good evenin’ Baltimore!” a male voice boomed over the old speakers, matched with lights of red, blue, and yellow shining on the open front part of the stage, the rest being closed off by the middle curtain.

“Y’all ready to have your hope lifted?” the man off stage called to the crowd.

The question was met with a surprising amount of applause and some “whoop”s in the audience.

“—to have your souls saved?”

Again, the crowd clapped and cheered at the thought of salvation, but this time a little louder than before.

“Well then please welcome! the righteous! Reverend Jonas, Nightengaaaaaalllle!”

With this, the audience erupted with applause and cheers, Frederick simply rolling his eyes at the extravagance of it all as Mr. Nightengale himself threw open the middle curtain. A faceless person offstage kept pulling the curtain open to reveal the small choir behind the reverend in their matching blue robes.

Nightengale, it seemed, had changed clothes since Frederick saw him earlier that day. His blue button-down had been replaced by a black and red sequined jacket, the fitted jeans by-“ _Dios mio_ ”-tight leather pants. Frederick cursed under his breath at the sight of Jonas in those clothes and in his element, and tried to inconspicuously adjust himself in his seat. The ongoing background music had since picked up and the choir began singing about faith and hope. Frederick thought it was actually kind of nice at first—their voices blended well together and worked with the music as Nightengale made his way down the front row of seats in the audience, inaudibly asking them about their troubles. Nice, that was, until the reverend himself started singing, his striking voice filling the entire room with a whole new energy. There was nothing especially spectacular about his voice—it was good, but better was the energy behind it, the falsified stereotypical “reverend accent” and the strain in the back of his throat. Needless to say, Frederick was not expecting Nightengale to sing, nor did he expect to be so damn turned on by it.

The music began to quiet while the choir hummed in the background, allowing the reverend to speak to one of the women in the front row, asking what he could do for her.

“Please, reverend,” the woman pleaded into the sparkly microphone held out for her, “my husband’s drinking has gotten out of control…I’m afraid one day he will go too far and-” her voice broke and she covered her mouth with her hand, earning a comforting touch from the reverend. “I’m afraid he will hurt our children,” she confessed before breaking out into a sob and bowing her head, her rich brown hair falling around her face. Frederick was not convinced by her performance and scoffed at her over-acting, even if it were just to try to get the crowd’s sympathy.

“Dry your tears, sister,” Nightengale told the woman. Taking her hands in his and bowing his head with closed eyes he said, “now Lord, this lovely lady here needs your help protecting her family. Her husband has slipped into a deep, drunken darkness, and she fears for the safety of her children and herself, and desperately wants the man she married back. Please, Lord, help her husband overcome his drinking and follow the path you have laid out for him. In addition, bless this woman and her family in this time of stress and pain. Amen.” Nightengale released the woman’s hands and looked into her eyes. “Now sister, you must continue to show your faith in the Lord, believe in him and his miracles and he will deliver!” An “Angel,” as he called his choir members, walked slowly out from the shadowed part of the stage holding a small wicker basket in her hands, stopping just behind Nightengale. “Have faith in the Lord, sister!” the reverend commanded as the music began to pick back up. “Show your love for him, and you will be rewarded with his Grace!” Nightengale began walking away from her and started toward Frederick’s side of the auditorium seats just as the Angel behind him swooped in with her little wicker basket, earning a generous bundle of bills of which Frederick could not see the amount.

It was clear to Frederick that the brunette woman was merely an actress who travelled with Nightengale and performed the first night to boost audience morale and get them in a “giving mood.” Frederick wondered why they didn’t have Nightengale perform some incredible miracle to get the crowd going, like make a blind man see or un-paralyze someone’s legs, but maybe they were just saving that for the big finale on the third night. The reverend began singing again, this time about keeping faith (or something like that, Frederick wasn’t paying much attention to the words as he was busy thinking about how many towns Nightengale had screwed over and left high and dry), Frederick growing more disgusted with the man with each note. Nightengale pranced around the seats toward the front of Frederick’s section, singing into the handheld microphone ( _Turned off, of course._ Frederick thought to himself as he deduced the sparkly mic was just for show as Jonas was also wearing his headset. _Ugh. Dick._ ) until he started up the aisle to Frederick’s left. Silently, Frederick cursed at himself for choosing an aisle seat, fearing that Nightengale would walk right by him, or worse, ask him what he wanted from “the Lord.”

Jonas slowly made his way up the aisle, smiling at audience members as he caught their eyes, the song beginning to die down as he chose his next victim. Slouching down in his seat a bit, Frederick tried not to be noticed, but still kept his eyes glued to the reverend. He was a sleazy piece of shit who dressed and acted like an absolute whore at times, but there was a certain magnetism about him that Frederick couldn’t deny, especially as he himself was still stupidly attracted to him. Jonas walked further up the aisle, singing and smiling here and there while his eyes scanned the crowd for the next person he could squeeze money out of. His eyes flicked toward Frederick and Jonas’s smile grew, making his eyes glint in the light of the spotlight following him around, the corners of his eyes crinkling in delight. Frederick looked around, trying to figure out what made Jonas smile so much— _surely_ it couldn’t have been him. The heat of a blush bloomed on Frederick’s cheeks as he realized none of the few people around him were smiling back at him as eagerly as he was smiling at them. Gripping the head of his cane more tightly, Frederick attempted to compose himself enough to calm his heartrate and reciprocate the smile weakly. The reverend turned to speak to an older man in the middle section of seats as the music quieted down and Frederick silently thanked him for not approaching him with the question of what he wanted. Frederick squirmed in his seat a bit as his blush and butterflies returned, realizing that what he wanted was the good reverend himself.

_He’s a fucking **conman** , what are you thinking? _Frederick scolded himself. _All he wants is money and the power that comes along with making people believe he is superior and has some connection to some god. Besides, he’ll be gone in three days anyway, and it’s not like you’ll ever see him again. He’ll probably just say he’ll stay with you, that he’ll leave the “job” behind to be with you, and then he’ll be gone the next morning. This asshole isn’t worth any of your time or energy, Frederick. He wouldn’t be interested in **you** , anyway. Let it go. _

It wasn’t often that Frederick allowed himself to fall for anyone. He usually found reasons to counter the desire to step out of his comfort zone, always telling himself the same things: _they probably don’t feel the same way._ or _they wouldn’t want **you** , you’re not good enough for them. _and especially after Gideon, he started believing _you’re broken, Frederick. no one wants someone as broken as you._ In addition to these repetitive, self-deprecating thoughts, Frederick’s anxiety, already bad enough to make him not want to show anyone the “real” him, worsened after the man convinced that he was a gruesome killer proved to Frederick that he truly was. Frederick’s carefully built-up reputation for being a sassy, know-it-all asshole helped him further distance himself from others so he could avoid the humiliation of hoping the other person reciprocates his feelings. Despite his efforts, the harshness in this grand ruse of his began to soften after Gideon, and “the real Frederick” started to show. Also despite his best efforts, Frederick felt himself still being drawn to Reverend Nightengale.

 

The rest of the night flashed by, Jonas making promises and promises all over the place, asking “the Lord” to help people with everything from losing their job to losing their cat as Angels followed him around with their little wicker money baskets. Though he secretly wanted him to, Jonas did not look back to Frederick again for the remainder of the show, which was a little disappointing to the psychiatrist and reinforced the negative thoughts running through his mind, making them too loud to ignore. Before Frederick knew it, Jonas was singing his last song, hitting the higher notes with a slight strain in his throat.

“Thank you Baltimore!” the reverend called out after his last note. “We will be here for two more nights, so if you know other sinners, still feel you haven’t been cleansed of your sins, or plan on doin’ some more sinning tonight-I know some of you out there do!-” Jonas pointed to a woman in the audience and winked at her, earning a groan and eye-roll from Frederick. “-then return tomorrow night to be forgiven for being as _bad_ as you are! Bless everyone o’ ya’ll, and goodnight!”

Frederick laughed to himself at how ridiculous Jonas was onstage, but then began to wonder what he was like offstage. _Probably the same obnoxiously over-the-top dick, just not religious._ The rest of the audience began to rise from their seats while the music faded out and the curtain closed on the humming Angels at the back of the stage. Frederick waited for the crowd to clear out a bit before getting up. He was in no rush to leave, but there was no reason for him to stay, either. Or…was there? Frederick turned back toward the stage, finding only some stage hands picking things up and moving the choir’s risers backstage. _No. Go, Frederick. Leave._ Turning back toward the doors, Frederick dug his cane into the carpet and started toward his car.

Outside, the sky had grown dark with a few stars poking through the glare from the lights of the arts building. Nearly all the cars had disappeared from the spaces on the street, leaving a glint of the red paint of Frederick’s car just visible in the distance under the street lamp on the opposite side of the street. The sound of the heavy front door of the building falling closed rang in Frederick’s ears, soon accompanied by footsteps running toward him. Pulse quickening, Frederick willed his legs to move faster as his hands fumbled for the car keys in his jacket pocket. He didn't dare look to find out who the footsteps belong to, but his curiosity was cured when Jonas Nightengale appeared next to him in a fitted black t-shirt and those goddamn leather pants.

“Didya enjoy the show?” the ~~charming~~ obnoxious reverend asked with a smile.

Frederick let go of the breath he had been holding in to answer, “it was…an experience,” looking up at Jonas at the end of his reply. The two had stopped in place on the sidewalk, a nearby streetlamp lighting their faces. The reverend looked strangely beautiful in the soft light—his eyes and smile catching it in just the right way, adding to the vision of his disheveled hair and clothes, looking more genuine than Frederick had seen all day.

“Well I guess I’ll take that as a compliment then, Mister—oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name. Mine’s Jonas.”

“ _Doctor_ Frederick Chilton, and it wasn’t a compliment, Mr. Nightengale.” Frederick tried to make himself sound as annoyed as he wanted to feel.

“Well, Freddy—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Well, _Doctor Chilton_ , I don’t remember cleansing you of your sins tonight, now was that because you were too afraid to ask, or you were planning on doing some more sinning tonight?” The words slid off Jonas’s tongue easily as he reached out to touch Frederick’s arm.

Shrinking away from the contact, Frederick hardened his expression into one of disgust to try to put off the reverend.

“Frankly Reverend, I don’t remember you cleansing _anyone_ of their sins tonight, I just remember you making empty promises and taking their money while prancing around in those ridiculous pants.” Frederick retorted, gesturing to Jonas’s thighs before turning to continue to his car and leave Jonas alone in the dim light.

A firm hand grabbed Frederick’s arm before he could take a step. “I don’t promise anything,” Jonas bargained. “I give those people hope where they would otherwise have none. I put their minds at ease from the things they have been worried about for months.”

Frederick shook his arm free from Jonas’s grip and flattened out his jacket. “You _sell_ people hope with nothing to back it up. They get their hopes up for nothing, and you’re out of town before they can even realize what you did to them.” Frederick was pleased with his choice of words at first when he saw the somber look that crawled over Jonas’s face, until his heart caught up and he felt bad for making the light in the reverend’s eyes dim.

“I don’t make those people give me money. They come here desperate, looking for any reason to feel better about their situation. They come here for a reason to believe in something. They come here to have their faith restored because they have lost so much. Now tell me, _Doctor Chilton_ , why did **_you_** come here tonight?”

Jonas’s tone was not harsh, Frederick decided, it was honest. Nightengale might act like an ass most of the time, but there was a reason he did what he did, and it was more than just the money. Standing in the spotlight of the streetlamp, Frederick realized he’d never come up with a reason to go tonight: he just did, his mind allowing his body to take control.

“I-I don’t know, honestly. I just saw the flyer and—”

“And you saw me on the street and you just couldn’t help yourself,” Jonas said with a smile and a gesture to his body, lightening the mood and getting Frederick to honestly smile in front of him for the first time.

“I was curious, that’s all,” Frederick’s tone light, trying to brush off the night like it was nothing and turning to walk to his car. This time, Jonas didn’t try to stop him. Instead, he walked beside the psychiatrist down the cracked sidewalk.

“So since I didn’t get to save your soul tonight,” Jonas began, Frederick wanting to stop him right there (and do what, he didn’t know), “would you come back tomorrow night?”

“Honestly Mr. Nightengale—”

“ _Reverend_ Nightengale,” Jonas teased, standing on the sidewalk on the passenger’s side of the car.

“Honestly, _Reverend_ , my soul is in no need of saving, and I am content with my sins,” Frederick said lightly, slipping the key into the driver’s side door to unlock it.

“Oh, are you?” Jonas asked suggestively over the top of the car, raising his eyebrows after the question.

“Goodnight, _Mister_ Nightengale,” Frederick said, getting into the driver’s seat.

“Night, Freddy,” Jonas called, looking through the passenger window at Frederick starting up the car. “See ya tomorrow night!” He yelled with a smile and a wink to top it all off. Frederick scoffed and shook his head enough to be sure Jonas saw before driving forward along the curb and pulling away to make a U-turn. He tried not to look as he passed Jonas on the sidewalk now on the opposite side of the street, but he couldn’t help his eyes as they glanced over to catch the man walking back to the arts center, smiling as he ran fingers through his mussed hair. Focusing his attention back on the road, Frederick found himself smiling, too.


	2. The Stars in Your Eyes

_The stars in your eyes_   
_Have set me free_

_Sweep me away_   
_I need to feel like I'm in the right place_   
_Take me, let's run away..._

* * *

 

 

Frederick twisted his hands on the steering wheel and let out a laugh of disbelief in the silent car. Small headlights lit up the dark road and the trees on either side of it, getting more frequent the closer Frederick got to his home. The memory of how Jonas looked under the dim light of the streetlamp hung hazily in Frederick’s mind. His stomach felt bubbly and his cheeks hot as he thought of Jonas winking at him through the car windows. Jonas had a certain beauty about him Frederick couldn’t seem to place. Maybe it was the fire behind his eyes or how his voice had sounded when he teased Frederick that drew Frederick to him. It was almost if the elaborate façade Jonas hid behind had cracked and Frederick could see the light of who Jonas actually was poking through. Or, at least, who he’d want him to actually be. Signaling and turning left, Frederick couldn’t help his mind wandering to the thought of kissing Jonas, how his lips would feel against his own, how his arms would feel around him or his fingers tangled in his hair. Sighing, Frederick felt a lull in his body as reality began to sink in. He knew it was so stupid. It was a fucking waste, really. Allowing himself to think of Jonas like that was ridiculous, and there was no point in daydreaming like a giddy schoolgirl about some asshole he didn’t even know. Frederick knew there was no goddamn point to even entertaining the idea of Jonas, but still his mind disobediently flashed images of handholding and date nights.

It had been so long since Frederick had entertained the idea of anyone, really, that to feel himself let go even just a little and feel his body react to simply the thought of another person was strange. Jonas’s eyes were so bright, even in air polluted with darkness. His smile could charm the pants off of Frederick (and Frederick would probably let that happen), but then again, he charmed people for a living. All he ever did on that stage or in that tent or wherever the fuck he was was charm people with his stupid fucking hair and his ridiculous winking and those totally outlandish clothes _especially_ those god awful leather pants that totally _didn’t_ make his ass look amazing. He put on his smile and these clothes and this whole act just to con people out of money and apparently, he was damn good at it. _What makes you think **you’re special** , Frederick? What makes you think he’s going to drop the act for **you** , of all people? What makes you think you’re more than just someone he’s trying to pick up for the weekend like the thousands of whores in all the towns before you? What makes you think you would mean anything to him? You mean nothing to anyone._

Frederick felt the familiar bitterness soak into his skin as he remembered why he never tried. There was something about Jonas, though. Behind all that hair product and the clothes and the fake accent, there seemed to be an actual person, and though he hadn’t truly seen it yet, Frederick felt himself still wanting to know that person, and have that person know him. There was a certain magnetism about Jonas that although Frederick could not deny, he could try not to indulge in it. The thought that Jonas would be gone in a couple days sat heavy in Frederick’s stomach and he pushed a little harder on the gas. If he would just leave him, then what was the point? Frederick was not one for one night stands, and especially not with people like Jonas. The tendency to isolate himself from others left Frederick having only a few sexual partners in the (now relatively-distant) past. He wasn’t a virgin by any means, but a lack of long-term relationships left him a little less than experienced in that area. Physical intimacy didn’t make Frederick uncomfortable, and he often longed for emotional intimacy as well, but that was pretty hard to come by when he didn’t let anyone in.

The excitement of the night having left his body, Frederick pulled up to his dark, empty house. Killing the engine, Frederick looked next to him to grab a neglected overcoat he had taken just in case it got cold that night. Underneath it, the wrinkled flyer glared its obnoxiously bright colors and Frederick begrudgingly grabbed it, squeezing his fingers around it hard enough to crumple the edge. He heard Jonas’s voice in his ears calling him “Freddy,” a name he didn’t like as a child, and hated even more now as an adult as it made him feel small and inferior. Hearing it roll off Jonas’s tongue bothered Frederick at first—who was he, this man Frederick didn’t even know, to call him that minutes after meeting him? Now, though, he wouldn’t mind hearing it again. Frederick thought of Jonas smiling at him and calling him Freddy to tease him, Frederick teasing him back and poking his side before leaning in for a kiss. Frederick shook his head to shoo away the strange thoughts. He’d only met him that day, only talked to him for a few minutes, but he still couldn’t help his stupid little daydreams. _Frederick, what the fuck is wrong with you? You don’t even know him, and he’s surely forgotten about you already. He’s probably off somewhere with some tramp. You would be the last thing to ever cross his mind._ Frederick clenched his fingers at the thoughts and made more wrinkles in the paper in his hand. He couldn’t go tomorrow. Even if Jonas did say he hoped to see him the next night, who knows what he meant or what his intentions were? Who knows what he really wants from Frederick? Jonas may have made it clear he hoped to see him the following night, but as Frederick opened his front door, he was nearly positive he couldn’t indulge in Jonas’s hopes.

Tossing the flyer on the kitchen counter, Frederick quickly moved to undress and get ready for bed. The day had gone quickly but looking back on it, the afternoon on which he first saw the handsome man who met his eyes and winked back felt so far away. Slipping under the covers, Frederick felt his body finally able to relax. The nice sheets smoothed over his skin and made goosebumps rise on his arms, the soft fabric cool from a lack of a warm body on them. As a haze clouded over him, Frederick’s mind wandered back to Jonas and wondered what he was really doing at that moment. Though he thought it unlikely to be true, Frederick hoped Jonas was doing as he was: drifting off to sleep with the other man on his mind.

The once cold sheets had become heavy and damp with sweat. Frederick’s body lurched awake just before his mind was able to catch up. The room was dark with just the glowing blue 2:48AM hovering around where Frederick knew the side table was. Frederick felt the deep silence close in around him, broken up only by his heavy gasping breaths. Heart still pounding, he reached for the small knob to click on the table lamp beside him. Light spread throughout the room and Frederick felt the air coming back to him now that he could see he was alone. His mind began to settle and he was able to brush off the images of Dr. Abel Gideon slicing into him again. This particular nightmare had Gideon starting by cutting off each of his toes, one by one, before slicing out his kneecaps and somehow clicking them together like castanets. Frederick had been restrained to a hard metal table, completely unable to fight back. Straps had dug into his forehead, wrists, hips, and ankles, and his tongue felt too big for his mouth. It wasn’t until Gideon looked to Frederick, his face twisting into a maniacal smile, and he shoved his blade into Frederick’s stomach that Frederick awoke.

“Fucking Christ,” Frederick whispered into the emptiness surrounding him. It was far from the first dream he’d had since the accident, and luckily, it was also far from the worst. Thankfully, the nightmares had gotten less intense and spaced farther apart as Frederick came to terms with the incident. Frederick dragged a hand down his face and sighed, his shirt sticking to his back. Rolling off the side of the bed, he moved to put on a fresh shirt, ignoring the pink raised line running down his abdomen. He ducked into the adjoining bathroom to grab a fresh towel and laid it on the mattress. All of this had become so rehearsed over the past months that Frederick felt his body move without a single thought. The first time it happened though, his mind was racing. He’d awoken panting, his chest feeling tight and his fingers trembling. The adhesive of the bandage covering his ripe wound gave away from the sweat beading on Frederick’s skin. He flicked on the side table lamp and checked frantically to see that he was still alone in his room. He wiped his palms on the sheets that still lay across his lap before resting his head in them. A sob broke in the back of his throat and tears hit his fingers. That night he had wanted so badly for someone to just be there and help him relax, but Frederick merely rolled away from the sweat-soaked area of the mattress to lie on his side and ball his fists in the sheets.

He had desperately hoped that night to never have another dream like that, but they continued to occur over the long months. Though tonight’s wasn’t so bad compared to others he’d had, it still shook Frederick up enough to lie awake longer that he’d like to. His mind wandered again to Jonas. A part of him hoped he was awake too, but thinking of Frederick instead of a serial killer or someone else he’d actually want to be with. Maybe it was a selfish thing to hope, but Frederick couldn’t seem to gather the energy to care. An uncomfortable feeling settled in, like he could see himself giving in to the infatuation of the near stranger and he tried to shake the images of Jonas gently rubbing his back to focus on a calming picture of the ocean. Once he settled into the mental picture, the crashing waves of high tide swept Frederick off to sleep once more.

In just a few hours, day broke and shone through the thin curtains on Frederick’s bedroom windows. A thick haze still hung in his mind from the hours of peaceful sleep, the birds outside pulling him out of it to bring him back to reality. Frederick groaned as he turned to see the used towel bunched up on the mattress, forcing him to remember the events of the night before. Balling the terrycloth in his hands Frederick tossed it in the hamper and piled the clothes he was wearing on top. Careful not to touch the scar on his stomach in excess, Frederick showered, shaved, and dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a light blue polo shirt. Not that there was any point in dressing, though. Frederick had weekends off of work and no one would see him today, and he could just as easily lay around in nothing but his silk boxers if he damn well pleased. The previous night left an intangible impression that made him want to cover up, though, and Frederick walked his near fully-clothed ass into the kitchen.

Gathering pans to cook breakfast, the bright flyer glared in the corner of Frederick’s eye. The paper was dulled slightly by the crumples made by Frederick’s fingers, but the color was still almost as alarming and eye-catching as when it was first handed to him. Frederick gave a glance at the paper thrown carelessly on the counter and scoffed. He’d be damned if anyone thought he was going to that god forsaken place tonight. What would be the point? So he could see Jonas prance around the stage, singing of salvation and taking people’s money? Jonas’s smile appeared in his mind again, this time shining brightly under the stage lights. His heart sped up and Frederick cursed Jonas under his breath. No. No, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t just give in to the desires of his stupid little daydreams. Besides, Jonas had probably forgotten about him and was ready to move on to the next sucker tonight.

Frederick took his plate to one of the high stools of the bar behind the dishwasher and tried not to pay the paper on the end any attention. He didn’t have anything planned for the day except to lie around the house, maybe catching up on some reading or listening to music. Frederick shoveled a forkful of food into his mouth and gave an annoyed glance at the flyer. Jonas’s voice rang in Frederick’s mind: _See ya tomorrow night!_ he’d said. Frederick scoffed and stabbed his fork through another hunk of food. Jonas was just kidding, surely. There was no way he actually hoped to see him there tonight unless he brought a full wallet.

But if that were true, Jonas probably wouldn’t have smiled so brightly at him during the show, or chased after him afterward, or tried so hard to get a smile out of him. A slight fear started to bubble in his gut at the thought of letting Jonas down. If he really did want to see him and Frederick stayed home reading a fucking book, he would feel terrible for crushing Jonas’s hopes.

“God fucking damn it,” Frederick spat out in a whisper. He piled his dishes into the sink and turned back to the paper laying mockingly on the edge of the counter. “Fine. You win,” he admitted defeat to the fading text of the paper. This time though, defeat felt pretty damn good.

 

As the day rolled slowly on, Frederick found himself unable to keep still or focus on anything he tried to do. Words blurred on the pages of any book he tried to read and the dull conversations of the people on TV lulled into a soft roar in Frederick’s ears after just a few minutes. Giving up on television and books, Frederick moved to his bedroom to put on some music and go through his closet. The shirts and trousers hung neatly in the large nook. Ties were arranges by style and then color off to the left with a stacked shoe organizer sitting off to the right. Frederick went through nearly every shirt and pair of pants he had, slowly wasting his day away trying on different outfits and singing along softly to the music. When he’d finally picked one—a nicely fitting jacket and pair of pants with a plain white shirt and a bright turquoise tie—it was nearly time to leave. Frederick quickly shut off his lights and made his way out the door, a hint of cologne following him.

His stomach cringed with anxiety and his fingers tapped nervously on the wheel as he drove down the mainly traffic-free road. The setting sun painted the sky with deep oranges and reds and a slight breeze blew through the mostly bare tree branches. The weather was predicted to be nice for the evening: calm and relatively warm with clear skies. When he reached the building, Frederick saw the number of cars was even greater than the night before, even though he’d arrived significantly earlier than yesterday. The front doors were propped open and the blonde woman stood off to the side again greeting people as they walked in. Frederick wondered for a minute where Jonas was hiding away to prepare for the show to come. Images of Jonas worriedly fixing his hair in the mirror drifted through Frederick’s mind and forced the corners of his mouth to turn up in a smile. Not bothering to look for a closer spot, Frederick parked near where he had the night before and made his way to the entrance.

“Good evening, sir,” the woman at the door said with a smile, her curls bouncing when she turned to look at him. Frederick replied only with a weak smile and made his way through the open double doors. Instrumental music travelled down the hall and flooded Frederick’s ears. His cane clicked on the linoleum floor until it was silenced by the carpet of the auditorium. It was about 40 minutes before the show was scheduled to start but the house was even more crowded than the night before. Luckily, Frederick found an aisle seat with only a group of three people near the other end of the row. He sat and listened to the chatter around him. Most of it consisted of whether or not Jonas could deliver on his promises. Some people, it seemed, had been there the night before and weren’t afraid to confirm their belief that yes, Jonas was 100% the real thing. Couples, families, and even quite a few individuals steadily filed in and somehow found seats. Before long, nearly all the seats were filled and the house lights turned down.

Stage lights came up and the announcer introduced “the righteous Reverend Jonas Nightengale” again. When the curtain was thrown open, Jonas stepped out onto the front part of the stage and jumped right into the first song. As the spotlight followed him around, Frederick could see that tonight, Jonas was wearing a slim-fitting grey suit that shined just a bit when the material caught the light. Though the costume was much tamer than the one he wore the previous night, tonight’s fit Jonas so beautifully that it was nearly on par with the leather pants and flashy jacket. Frederick scanned his eyes over Jonas’s body as he belted out the last few notes and made his way into the middle of the crowd. Stopping twice toward the front, Jonas made his promises and had an Angel behind him collect the cash. Frederick saw his eyes scan the crowd and his hand come up to shield them from the bright lights until they met Frederick. Jonas’s lips stretched into a wide smile and his eyes lit up at the sight of Frederick in the audience. A deep blush spread over Frederick’s cheeks and he smiled back more timidly than he wanted to. He tried to keep his heart from soaring at the thought of Jonas being excited to see him, but despite his best efforts, his pulse quickened and his stomach did flips.

Jonas made his way up the side aisle opposite to Frederick and handed out a couple prayers in exchange for a couple handfuls of cash in the basket. He’d turned in his seat to follow Jonas with his eyes until he walked behind the last row of middle seats and out of Frederick’s line of sight. A strange fear started to bubble in Frederick’s gut as he felt Jonas coming closer to him. _Don’t ask to save my soul please, just walk right by don’t talk to me don’t draw attention to me, Nightengale._ Frederick tried hopelessly to silently communicate with Jonas before he reached his row of seats. Jonas had started talking over the background music about those who may have attended the previous night but didn’t get to have time with him. Heart speeding up and palms becoming sticky, Frederick tried to mentally prepare himself for any uncomfortable situation that might arise. Jonas’s steps got closer on the carpet until they were just behind Frederick. He’d mostly turned from Jonas, ignoring his glance for fear that he might get the idea that Frederick wanted to help him perform a miracle in front of a full house. A strong hand clamping on Frederick’s shoulder pulled his eyes up to Jonas who smirked down at him. Frederick looked Jonas in the eyes and shook his head subtly to try to tell him to move on down the aisle. Seeming to understand, Jonas squeezed Frederick’s shoulder before taking his hand away, letting his fingers brush Frederick’s neck. A shiver broke out on Frederick’s arms from the touch and he sucked in a bit of his bottom lip to bite down on. Frederick’s eyes fluttered to Jonas’s ass as he continued down the aisle but as if he could tell Frederick was checking him out, Jonas turned to glance back and wink at him. One side of Frederick’s mouth turned up at how ridiculous Jonas looked, and how adorable Frederick found the gesture.

The rest of the performance carried on mostly uneventfully for Frederick and before he knew it, the curtains were closing and people started to file out of the back doors. Standing to let the family on the inside of the row out, Frederick took his time leaving the auditorium. He hadn’t really thought about waiting around for Jonas, but he soon found himself staring at the old plaques and artworks still hanging in the hall from days gone by. Busied by a particular one dated 1987, Frederick was startled when the closed auditorium doors suddenly burst open to reveal a frantic Jonas. Frederick’s eyes widened and lips parted when he saw Jonas standing there, looking like he thought he’d have to run after someone he was afraid he’d missed. Instead of the grey suit, Jonas now wore a slim-fitting tan jacket over a light blue button-down with nice, fitted dark jeans and boots. Rather than his hair being expectedly messy and ruffled after the performance as it had been the night before, it was neat and styled with care. Jonas blushed at Frederick’s eyes sliding down his body. It was clear that Jonas had tried especially hard to make himself look nice and just for that, Frederick felt electricity run under his skin to make him want to pull him into a kiss right in the middle of the brightly lit hallway.

The two men looked at each other and smiled in unison. Jonas strolled over to where Frederick was standing and smiled bigger as he got closer than he probably should.

“Enjoy the show?” Jonas asked with a raise of his eyebrows.                                                          

“Eh, I wouldn’t say it was as good as last night’s,” Frederick teased with a smile. “Thank you for not trying to save my soul, though.”

Jonas laughed. “You should’ve seen the look you gave me! No one with any sympathy would’ve stuck a microphone in your face and ask you to confess your sins. Besides, I distinctly remember you telling me you were “content” with them.”

“Yeah,” Frederick met Jonas’s smile with another one of his own. “We’re on pretty good terms, I’d say.”

Jonas laughed in return and stared down at his feet a minute before putting on a more serious face and looking into Frederick’s eyes again. “Would you, uh, would you wanna take a walk? We don’t have to, it’s just that it’s such a beautiful night, and—”

“Yes, Jonas,” Frederick cut him off with a little smile. He could hear the anxiety in Jonas’s voice and knew that just a bit of it came from the fact that he was absentmindedly leaning on the cane a little too heavily. “Of course.”

Jonas let out a slight breath of relief and beamed at Frederick. “Shall we?” Jonas gestured to the empty hall leading outside.

The pair stepped out under the clear night sky and walked side by side down the steps of the building. Frederick let Jonas decide which way to turn when they got to the sidewalk at the bottom, and Jonas got a little too close to be an accident when he chose left.

“You were right,” Frederick admitted, looking up at the sky. “It’s gorgeous tonight.” The sky above them was darkened for the most part by the lights from the buildings and streetlamps, but a few stars pierced through and speckled the blackness with spots of light. Luckily, it was still warm enough for neither of the men to need an outer jacket.

“Can you see that?” Jonas asked, pointing to a reddish speck in the sky. Frederick could, but wished they were in a clearer area where they could just sit together and stare upwards instead of the middle of the sidewalk where they stopped. Jonas didn’t wait for an audible answer from Frederick and continued. “That’s Mars. It’s not the easiest thing to see with all these lights around, but it’s still pretty clear this time of year.”

Frederick looked to Jonas as he spoke, still looking upwards. The awe on Jonas’s face made Frederick smile and his heart flutter. “You like astronomy?”

The question pulled Jonas’s eyes back to Frederick’s. “Yeah,” Jonas smiled as his cheeks turned pinker. “I mean, I always have been, even since I was a kid, but I still don’t know much about it.” Jonas looked back up to the sky. “I just never found the time, I guess. It was always so relaxing to me, though.”

“It’s not too late, you know,” Frederick tried to be reassuring. “To learn about it, I mean.”

Jonas let a smile stretch across his face and looked to Frederick before resuming the stroll down the sidewalk. “And what about you, Doctor Chilton, what exactly are you a doctor of?”

“Uh, Psychiatry.” Frederick had to think about what he did for a job; it seemed so far away from the surreal present moment. “I practice at the Hospital for the Criminally Insane, not too far from here.”

“Ah so you’ve had some interesting patients, then?” Jonas had stuck his fingers in his front pants pockets and took this opportunity to nudge Frederick’s elbow with his own, being careful not to do it when Frederick was leaning on the cane.

“Yeah,” Frederick said with a breathy laugh. The drag of his shirt over the deep scar on his stomach had suddenly become very noticeable. “There’ve been a few memorable ones, to say the least.” Frederick’s tone was clear he wasn’t up for talking about former patients at the moment, and he silently thanked Jonas when he didn’t ask.

“So, what got you into it?” Jonas asked innocently. “Did you sit in your room as a little kid and think ‘I wanna delve into the minds of dangerous criminals when I’m older’?” Jonas tried obviously to keep the tone light and smiled as he looked into Frederick’s eyes, waiting for a response.

Frederick smiled and looked down towards his feet. “No, actually. I’d always wanted to be a medical doctor when I was younger.” His smile faded a bit at the memories of failure, which he tried to shrug off. “But when that didn’t work out, I decided to go to psychiatry, and ended up really liking it.”

Jonas met Frederick’s eyes with a smile before glancing up at the sky again and sighing softly. He looked honestly stunning contrasted against the stars and the lights coming from the posts along the sidewalk. He had put thought into his clothes and care into his hair simply to impress Frederick (and it worked). He had run out of the auditorium worried that he had missed his chance with Frederick. He actually wanted to spend time with Frederick. A continued bubbliness roared in Frederick’s stomach at the thoughts. He realized he was comfortable in Jonas’s presence, and would be content even if they finished their walk in silence, just enjoying each other’s company. He had a strong urge to lace his fingers in between Jonas’s, but the lurch of anxiety at the thought, coupled with the fact that the hand closest to the other man was occupied already with the handle of his cane stopped him. Frederick imagined the feel of Jonas’s hand in his, a thumb gently smoothing over his finger as they walked in calm silence, until he saw Jonas stop in reality and turn toward him.

“W-what do you say we go to dinner?” Jonas asked, as if he’d spent the entirety of their short silence mustering up the courage to utter the question.

“What?”

“Dinner? You? Me? My treat,” Jonas tried to hide his nervousness by making the question sound less like a date. “My sister and I went out celebrating last night after the show—it’s kinda an opening night tradition—and we went to this great place just down the road from here and I’d really like—”

“That was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” Frederick teased in an effort to keep the mood light. “I really shouldn’t though, it’s getting a little late for dinner.”

“Aw c’mon, Freddy, live a little.” Jonas smiled and clasped a hand around Frederick’s upper arm for just a second. “We can just get dessert if you want.”

Frederick couldn’t help smiling as he felt his resistance waver and answered, “Yeah, alright.” Jonas stared into Frederick’s eyes long enough to make his heart flutter with the feeling Jonas might kiss him. Jonas’s eyes glanced at his lips for a second too long and Frederick felt adrenaline flow through him. The adrenaline soon turned sour with a strange disappointment, though, when Jonas turned away to continue walking.

“C’mon,” Jonas repeated, turning back a little to wink at Frederick again.

Frederick smiled at the act and walked a little faster to catch up to Jonas. He tried to hide the fact that he was getting a little tired and sore from the walk by keeping up with the pace Jonas set and putting as much weight as he could on the cane without it being too obvious. Thankfully, Jonas soon stopped and gestured to the building across the street, lit up inside by soft lighting.

“Really, Jonas?” Frederick tried to cover up how flattered he was with a tone of disbelief and a cock of an eyebrow. Frederick had lived in Baltimore long enough to know the restaurant wasn’t cheap and even though he would’ve had the money, he didn’t dare go into the romantic lighting without a date (nor was he one to sit alone at the bar).

“Jesus, Freddy, _yes_.” Jonas teased Frederick with a false tone of annoyance. He looked left and then right before taking a step onto the road.

“Alright, but don’t think you’re paying for me,” Frederick said, following Jonas off the curb.

“Oh, no, course not!” Jonas said with a smile. The pair made it safely across the street and into the crowded restaurant.

Once inside, Frederick could clearly see the features of the restaurant: in front of them, there was a podium at which the host stood in formal attire. Booths lined the perimeter and formed a few rows in the middle of the large room, with the rest filled with lots of small tables. Over them, each booth had lights with bright stained glass shades and each table had an arrangement of flowers in a short vase, allowing a line of sight over them. In the time he’d spent taking in the atmosphere, Frederick nearly missed Jonas slipping the host a $100 bill to get them a table. He pretended he didn’t see when Jonas turned back to him, allowing him to walk in front of him to follow the host to their table. Frederick worried stupidly over whether or not Jonas would pull out his chair for him, but his nerves were calmed when the host did it before Jonas got the chance. The man in the bowtie went to hand them menus but Jonas held up a hand to stop him.

“Just the dessert menu, please,” Jonas said, trying to sound polite (and just barely succeeding). The host replied with a slightly annoyed “Alright” and handed them smaller menus before returning to his podium. Jonas watched Frederick look over the menu for a minute before Frederick noticed and smiled back at him. “Anything look good?” Jonas asked.

“Yeah,” Frederick laughed a little. “Everything, actually. I’m kind of leaning toward the, uh, angel food cake, though.” The cake was served with berry preserves and was the only thing advertised as vegan on the menu. Frederick hoped Jonas wouldn’t ask him why he chose that—he couldn’t bear to have _that_ discussion in the middle of a crowded restaurant.

“Yeah?” Jonas took a pause that made an anxiety rise in Frederick’s chest. “That’s what Sam got last night, actually. I was gonna ask to try it but it was gone before I even got the words out!”

“Sam?” Frederick spoke too quickly to fully hide the sudden jealousy that churned his stomach.

“My sister. You might’ve seen her actually—standing outside the doors, short, curly blonde hair?” Jonas smiled and glanced down to the flower arrangement on the table between them before continuing in a soft voice. “She’s a big part of the reason we’re here tonight, too.”

“Oh?” Frederick studied the expression on Jonas’s face, trying to figure out just what he’d meant.

“Well, she handed you the flyer,” Jonas reasoned. He blushed and fiddled with the silverware on the table. “Plus, she kinda pushed me to work up the courage to ask you here tonight.”

Frederick thought back to the Jonas he’d seen on stage: loud and confident, if a little outrageous at times. Why the hell would _he_ need to work up confidence to ask someone out? He was probably kidding. Or exaggerating.

“Are—”

“Are we ready to order?” A waitress appeared to Frederick’s left and unintentionally cut off his question. Frederick answered first and looked up at her to hand over the menu. She was unexpectedly pretty, her curled brunette hair fell carefully over her delicate shoulders as her warm brown eyes met Frederick’s. Her narrow chin and little nose framed full lips which smiled as she spoke and she wore a fitted black dress to show her curves without being scandalous.

Jonas read his order directly from the menu and handed it to the woman, keeping his eyes on Frederick. The waitress said something like “okay,” or “coming right up,” but Frederick didn’t pay her much attention as she walked away.

“You were saying?” Jonas raised his eyebrows and smiled with the question.

“Right.” What was he talking about again? Something about.. working up confidence…? Oh, right. “Are you and your sister close?”

“I’d say so, yeah. Especially being on the road together all the time, we’ve gotten pretty close.” Jonas paused and looked down at his hands for a second and Frederick thought of how different he looked to him from the night before. Was it how he was dressed, or how he was acting? Or maybe it was just how Frederick saw him now. Jonas looked more venerable than Frederick had ever seen him, and he longed to put his arms around him and pull him to his chest.

“My father died—” Jonas cleared his throat a bit before continuing. “—when we were kids, and of course, she’s my younger sister so I had to keep reassuring her that it wasn’t her fault.” Jonas’s expression hardened a bit, brow furrowing slightly and creating a wrinkle between his eyebrows. “The son of a bitch had cancer and told us that God would save him if we prayed long and hard enough and had enough faith in Him.” Jonas looked to Frederick’s face, scanning from his lips parted slightly in shock to his eyes which were glued to him. “So when he kept getting worse, he’d tell us we weren’t praying hard enough or believing enough or showing enough faith. So Sam blamed herself ‘till she was a teenager.”

Frederick didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t often people confided in him like this. He wanted to ask why, after all that, they decided to go around the country and pretend to be people of faith, but he couldn’t work up the nerve or think of a way to put it delicately. Jonas looked strangely relieved to have told Frederick what he did, the soft light of the restaurant flattered his features and his eyes looked brightly back at him.

“I’m sorry,” Frederick finally said quietly.

“It’s fine,” Jonas smiled in reassurance and leaned further over the table. “Really, Freddy.”

Frederick blushed and tried to think of what to say next, but was relieved of the task when the waitress arrived with two plates and set them on the table.

“Thank you,” Jonas didn’t even try to look at the waitress as he spoke, and kept his eyes on Frederick. He picked up his fork and waited for Frederick to take a bite before starting on his cheesecake.

“Oh my god,” Frederick said, accidentally forgetting to swallow before speaking, his mumbled words making Jonas laugh.

“Good?”

Frederick made sure his mouth was clear of food before he spoke again. “Well, I can see why Sam didn’t want to share.”

Jonas laughed again and said, “Don’t worry, I won’t even ask for a bite.” He stuck his fork into the pointed end of the cheesecake and put the piece in his mouth.

“Good, ‘cause you’re not getting any,” Frederick teased before cleaning another bite off his fork.

Jonas started talking about the show—his relationship with the Angels and how he met them, finding venues to hold revivals, Sam picking out costumes (about which Frederick would like to say she did a great job because he looked incredible on stage, but he kept his mouth shut), and his favorite places he’d been (Baltimore was getting higher on his list by the minute, he’d said, which made Frederick blush heavily)—and Frederick was glad to be relieved of the pressure of trying to find the right words. As Jonas spoke, Frederick couldn’t help but drink in the way he looked, dressed in the special attire Sam probably helped him pick out, the shape of his lips, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about being on stage, or the cute little crinkles he got in the corners of them when he smiled. He was undeniably beautiful, but the lighting framed him in such a way that he actually did look like a man of God (but maybe that was just Frederick’s imagination). He lost himself in the sound of Jonas’s voice and the look in his eyes and the taste of the food that when Jonas finally reached across the table to take his hand and ran a thumb across the back, Frederick felt himself nearly pull away in surprise.

The sudden touch shot excitement through his veins again, thudding his heart against his chest and reddening his cheeks. Jonas simply smiled at him and traced the veins in the back of Frederick’s hand with the pad of his thumb. Frederick squeezed his hand around Jonas’s fingers, trying to hold onto him—and the moment—as much as he could. It wasn’t until the waitress returned, carefully placing the black leather fold holding the bill between them, that their eyes were torn off each other. The attractive waitress left them alone again and Frederick felt Jonas’s hand leave his, the tangible absence reminding him to reach for his wallet.

“What are you doing?” Jonas asked inquisitively.

“I’m, uh..” Frederick unfolded his wallet and moved to pull out a couple bills.

“I told you, it’s on me,” Jonas’s voice had a hint of forcefulness in it, if only to reinforce the fact that he wanted to treat Frederick. “We had a good turnout tonight, don’t worry about it, Freddy.”

Reluctantly, Frederick slipped his wallet back into an inside jacket pocket and allowed Jonas to count out enough for the check and a generous tip. There was a part of Frederick that didn’t want to leave the comfort of the restaurant because it knew that there, they couldn’t get too personal, whether conversationally or physically or emotionally. Plus, where would they go now? Frederick didn’t want the night to end, even though the rational side of him knew it was getting late. Maybe if he just let Jonas walk him back to his car, he’d be able to come to terms with the idea of saying goodnight. As he stood, Frederick was reminded of just how long the walk had been, and how much of a toll it took on him. He wasn’t about to admit his fatigue to Jonas, though.

The two walked out of the restaurant with Jonas noticeably at Frederick’s left, walking slightly behind him for only the second time that night. It had gotten a little breezier over the short time they were inside, and the air nipped at Frederick’s fingers around the handle of the cane. Jonas steered them right—to walk even further away from the arts building, Frederick noted—with a light touch on the small of Frederick’s back. He wanted to ask where they were going now, but he refrained from speaking when he remembered how much he wanted just to be with Jonas. Frederick glanced up at the sky again and saw that more stars had poked through the deep sky than before. It was so calm and quiet, the comfortable silence enveloping them like a bubble to keep out the outside world. A breath of relaxation left Frederick and he realized he didn’t want to leave this moment, or Jonas. His lull of calmness was soon torn from him when he felt warm fingers slip between those on his unoccupied hand. Jonas’s palm met Frederick’s and he felt an anxiety grow from his stomach through his chest as he searched for something to say. When he couldn’t think of anything, Frederick simply gave Jonas’s hand a light squeeze and turned to smile feebly at Jonas, who had a certain nervousness on his face relieved at the gesture.

“Listen, Freddy,” Jonas began, his voice a little shaky as they came closer to where the sidewalk took a turn. “Would you maybe wanna.. come by the hotel I’m staying at? Like just for coffee, or something, you don’t have to stay late.”

Frederick couldn’t help his body or his mouth from immediately reacting negatively. He let his hand slip from Jonas’s and started, “Oh, Jonas, I don’t really think—”

He immediately saw the hurt in Jonas’s eyes. “I’m sorry…” Jonas’s voice was small and he looked toward the ground. “I’ve just really enjoyed being with you tonight, and I’d love to keep talking to you, and I’m sorry like if I came on too strong or something—”

“No, I’m sorry.” Frederick stepped closer and put a hand just above Jonas’s elbow to pull his eyes up to him again. He wanted to kiss him just so he could show Jonas how he resented his previous objection, but he couldn’t get up the nerve. “I didn’t mean that…I’m just not used to this sort of thing, I guess.” He tried to reassure Jonas with a little smile. “I’d love to spend more time with you, Jonas.” _I don’t want to leave you, Jonas,_ is what he’d like to say. “Let’s go,” Frederick said with a smile as he took Jonas’s hand again. Jonas smiled back, nodded, and told him the hotel was just a little ways away once they turned the corner (for that, Frederick was glad). “This really _was_ your plan all along, wasn’t it?” Frederick teased again, and Jonas only laughed in return before going on about how he and Sam decided to stay at a nicer hotel after the shithole they’d stayed in the last town they’d visited. Frederick listened attentively as he felt himself slip farther back into that comfort he’d felt before, but with Jonas’s laugh in his ears and hand in his own, it was better now.

When the hotel came into clear view, Frederick saw that it was another one of those more expensive places in Baltimore he’d always meant to visit. Tall glass doors with large, goldtone handles led into a lobby whose ceiling was high with ornate crown molding around it. Nearly everything in the room was gold or tan, with white and shades of deep red placed around for accenting. Frederick wanted to note how beautiful the interior was, but he didn’t feel like admitting he’d always wanted to go in another place they’d been tonight, so he just squeezed Jonas’s hand slightly. A large, heavy looking light fixture hung directly over the check-in desk which Jonas bypassed, pulling the keycard he probably shouldn’t have taken out of his wallet. Not far from the desk, they stepped into an elevator and Jonas dropped Frederick’s hand to push the necessary button. Alone in the relatively large area, Frederick felt something lurch inside of him and he realized his desire to push Jonas against the back wall to press against him with a forceful kiss. He did no such thing, of course, and Jonas explained that he was able to get Sam and all the Angels on the same floor, with only a couple people sharing rooms.

When they got to the room and Jonas unlocked the door, Frederick was surprised (though by now he knew he shouldn’t be) at how large the suite was. Over the threshold, a short hall with small coat closets on either side opened up into a cream colored room with a large black couch, in front of which sat a dark stained coffee table and a big flat screen built into the opposite wall. Under the television were two coolers, one a wine fridge, and the other holding various bottles of alcohol and some fruit Frederick assumed Jonas had stashed there after breakfast. Jonas took off his blazer and hung it in the closet.

“Would you like me to take your coat?” Jonas asked, a little too politely while pushing up his sleeves.

“No, it’s fine,” Frederick answered as he looked around the room, trying to find something to do with himself.

“Do you want a drink or something?” Jonas looked to the coolers. “We could even order something from room service if you wanted, it’s not too late—”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Frederick articulated his reply with a reassuring smile.

“Okay,” Jonas said with a tone that made Frederick think people usually did want a drink when they spent any time alone with Jonas. “We can just sit and talk then,” he said after a moment, gesturing to the couch.

Frederick unbuttoned the one fastener that held his jacket closed and leaned his cane against the wall next to the couch before taking his seat next to Jonas.

“Freddy?” Jonas had folded one leg under him to turn toward Frederick. His voice was soft and Frederick could feel a sensitive question coming on. “Can I ask you something?”

Frederick squared his shoulders to Jonas and looked into his eyes, feeling a nervousness crawl just under his skin. “O-of course, Jonas.”

“Why do you need the cane?”

The question was direct but not harsh, for which Frederick was thankful. He felt the familiar discomfort surrounding the issue and tried to downplay what he’d struggled with so much the past few months. “Oh, it’s nothing really..”

Jonas put a gentle hand just above Frederick’s knee and stroked his thumb over the dark material of his pants, looking into his eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. You can tell me. No judgments, I promise,” he said with a smile at the end.

The touch was meant to be soothing but it sent Frederick’s heart racing and froze his body. He’d forgotten how little touches like this felt. He bit down on the inside of his lip to try to relax enough to decide whether or not to tell Jonas what he’d been trying so hard to put in the past. What if he thought what Frederick did was foolish and he just got what was coming to him? What if he saw how truly broken he was and realized he wanted nothing to do with him? No, Jonas _couldn’t_ be that kind of person. Frederick _hoped_ he wasn’t, anyway. It might be difficult to discuss, but Jonas at least deserved an honest answer, didn’t he? Besides, his lifestyle wasn’t exactly the most noble, so surely he couldn’t judge Frederick for nearly getting himself killed, right? Focusing on the soothing pattern Jonas was making with his thumb, Frederick tried to calm his heart rate and gather his thoughts. He took a deep breath and fixed his eyes on a spot on the coffee table before speaking.

“It was a, uhm, former patient of mine. He was convinced he was a killer, and so was I. He fit the patterns and he’d already been convicted of killing his wife. It seemed to make sense, so I encouraged him opening up to me.” Frederick wrung his hands in his lap and felt Jonas’s eyes looking all over his face with attentiveness. “He wasn’t the real killer the FBI was looking for—he was a copycat. A copycat I had been encouraging to take on the persona of the real killer since I met him. When he broke out of a transport van,” Frederick squeezed his eyes shut, making Jonas give his thigh a squeeze to remind him he was there for him. “He found me, and used his skills as a surgeon to take out some things..”

Frederick trailed off and Jonas waited for him to open his eyes again before saying anything.

“Frederick—” He looked up at Jonas with big eyes and realized this was the first time he’d heard him say his full name. “—that’s…you’re incredible.”

Frederick blushed and looked down at his hands which Jonas promptly took into his own. His heart still pounded against his ribcage, but a strange sense of relief came over him as he let go of something he’d been holding onto for too long. He wasn’t sure what it was about Jonas that allowed him to open up, but it didn’t matter. Frederick was just glad he could actually tell someone without feeling like he’d be judged.

“I’ve never really told anyone, to be honest,” Frederick said, studying how his hands looked in Jonas’s. It was true; he’d never told anyone the full story before. Sure, he’d say a few snarky comments here and there if anyone from the FBI brought it up (no one at the hospital dared say anything they thought Frederick might be able to hear, even though he did end up overhearing a few things), but they all already knew everything that happened. He hadn’t even talked about it in a serious way with anyone until tonight, but it felt good to finally get it out there. Frederick felt comfortable with Jonas, and he realized then just how grateful he was to have met him.

“Thank you for telling me,” Jonas said quietly while moving closer to him, his right hand leaving Frederick’s to put a finger under his chin. “Really, thank you.” He lifted Frederick’s chin and kissed his lips gently.

Frederick felt his heart soar in his chest and he pushed back slightly into the kiss. Like the cliché romcoms he enjoyed watching alone under a blanket with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, their surroundings blurred and all Frederick could think of was Jonas’s lips on his and the adrenaline speeding through his veins. Nothing else mattered as long as he had Jonas there with him, and he felt like he could stay there forever. Finally, things felt right and Frederick felt like he was where he belonged.

It was all over too fast when Jonas pulled away, but Frederick felt a heat rise in his cheeks and oxygen return to his lungs as he remembered he needed to breathe. Jonas smiled at him and Frederick smiled back when he saw a pinkness blossoming in his cheeks. Frederick thought of how cute Jonas looked, nervous and blushing, smiling and looking at him like he was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Frederick’s smile widened and he squeezed the hand he realized was still in his own just to hold onto something to keep him grounded in the moment and help him remember all of this was real. Being with Jonas felt so surreal, and Frederick still had a hard time believing Jonas wasn’t going to fuck him over. But no—no, maybe this time, things would be okay. Frederick looked into the eyes of the man in front of him and let out a quiet, contented sigh, enjoying the comfortable silence between them.

 

* * *

 

Title from [So Long, So Long](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OlDDrZ6vSfI) by Transit


	3. Anchor

Weigh me down.  
You are my anchor;  
I've been caught in the clouds.   
This may be crazy, but I saw you there.  
I think I see a piece of me in you,  
'cause we know we're much too young to ever lose.

And I'm not scared to climb   
with all that we've been through.  
It won't take too long to feel the bright light.  
No matter where we go,  
just leave yourself entwined and let the feeling grow.

* * *

 

Frederick’s eyes glanced down at Jonas’s lips and he slowly leaned forward in an attempt to close the gap between them. The corners of Jonas’s mouth turned up just slightly before he leaned toward Frederick, meeting him in the middle. Pressing their lips together, Jonas kissed him gently, allowing Frederick to have the control. Frederick quietly sighed into the kiss and put a hand on the back of Jonas’s head, working his fingers into his hair. It had been awhile since he’d kissed someone, sure, but that didn’t mean he’d lost his touch, right? A senseless anxiety began to fizzle in his stomach and through his veins. What if he really _had_ lost it, though? When Jonas moved to squeeze at his thigh and slip his tongue past Frederick’s lips, though, that anxiety quickly diminished. Jonas kissed slowly and carefully, and Frederick felt himself start to melt into him. He knew he had the power, and as much as he wanted things to move faster, his muscles had become loose and he was putty in Jonas’s hands. And that was absolutely A-Fucking-Okay with Frederick. He could let this go on all goddamn night honestly, but Jonas pulled away only slightly, the sudden absence noticeable and disappointing until he pulled Frederick’s bottom lip between his teeth.

Frederick couldn’t help the resulting gasp and pulled on the bit of Jonas’s hair that was under his fingers. A breath blew out of Jonas’s nose in what Frederick assumed was silent laughter and he pulled harder on the hair in between his fingers to push his lips back to Jonas’s harder than before. He didn’t know what his intentions were with Jonas, but right now, he didn’t care as long as he could just keep kissing him. Frederick felt Jonas’s hands meet his chest and slide under his jacket as if to push it off without him noticing. Releasing his grip in Jonas’s hair, Frederick allowed the jacket to be pushed off his shoulders, pulling his arms free and abandoning it behind him on the arm of the couch. Normally, he’d have his clothing (namely suit jackets and pants) hung with care, even when they were in need of washing, but right now garment care was the farthest thing from his mind. One of Jonas’s hands pulled on the knot of Frederick’s tie while he pulled their lips apart to kiss down Frederick’s jaw.

Biting down on his lip, Frederick squeezed his eyes shut and slid his hands around to Jonas’s back to bunch his hands in the fabric of his shirt. As Jonas’s tongue and teeth made their way down his neck, Frederick suddenly remembered the time in high school when Jenny MacArthur kissed his neck for the first time and he almost came right there in his pants. He’d grown out of that since, but the sensitive stretch of flesh being scraped under Jonas’s teeth caused a heat to start to boil deep in Frederick’s gut and all he could do was simply breathe through his slightly parted lips. Jonas untied the knot of Frederick’s tie and threw it to the ground before his fingers swiftly started to pull open the top buttons of his shirt. His mouth followed his hands and soon it was at Frederick’s collarbone, licking at the dip above it and nipping at the delicate skin pulled over it.

The bites on his shoulder coupled with Jonas’s deft fingers slipping buttons through their holes sent a jolt down Frederick’s arms to his fingers to make them pull at the back of Jonas’s shirt, untucking it. He felt Jonas smile and hum against his skin and he slid his hands to Jonas’s sides, pressing his fingers into them until he tugged at the material again. Jonas’s mouth left Frederick’s shoulder to press against his lips again while his fingers unbuttoned the top of his own shirt.

Like a telephone suddenly ringing in his head, Frederick was torn out of the trance Jonas had put him in. The kiss turned bitter as thoughts of Jonas’s impending departure shot through Frederick’s mind. He didn’t want Jonas to just leave him tomorrow, but he would. Frederick _knew_ he would. It was imminent and there was nothing Frederick could say or do that would make him stay, and even if he tried, Jonas might just promise to stay and then be gone before Frederick could even say goodbye. He should stop this nonsense with him before it got too far. He couldn’t let this go any farther. No, this had to stop, _now._

Frederick planted his palms on Jonas’s chest and pushed away from him, earning a look of confusion and apology. “N-no, I can’t…”

“What?” Jonas’s voice was hardly more than a whisper and filled with a strange sound of heartbreak.

“You’re just leaving tomorrow and I can’t,” Frederick tried to look down at his knee to get the words out, but he couldn’t help looking up and seeing the hurt in Jonas’s eyes. “I just can’t do this.” Frederick reached for his jacket behind him and bunched a hand in it, wrinkling the fabric.

Jonas grabbed Frederick’s forearm in an attempt to keep him sitting. “Wait—” Frederick stopped and looked all over Jonas’s face, trying to figure out what he was feeling. “I don’t _have_ to leave.” Jonas stroked his thumb over the sleeve covering Frederick’s arm. “And I don’t _want_ to leave, Frederick.”

Frederick tried to conceal the little smile he felt tugging at his mouth. Jonas using his full name made him actually sound like he was serious.

“I’ll talk to Sam tomorrow, okay?” Jonas put a finger of his other hand under Frederick’s chin again and kissed him almost as gently as before. Pulling away just enough to speak, he let his words ghost over Frederick’s lips. “I like you too much to just leave you here.”

Frederick felt his stomach flip and he shooed away the thoughts that that was just a ploy to get him into bed. Kissing him with more force than before, Frederick slid his hands to the buttons of Jonas’s shirt to quickly pull them open. He thought of Jonas staying with him, the pleasant idea that he’d be able to kiss him whenever and wherever and as much as he wanted settling happily in his mind. Pulling the shirt tucked in at Frederick’s sides, Jonas pressed his lips to the other man’s with a matching force. Frederick tore open the bottom button of the shirt under his fingers and ran his hands up Jonas’s torso to shove the material off his shoulders. Jonas happily obliged and pulled his arms out of the sleeves, tossing the shirt on the floor without a second thought.

Kissing at the base of his neck, Jonas returned his hand’s to the fastened buttons of Frederick’s shirt. Frederick felt his pulse rise with anxiety as he felt Jonas’s hands—and now mouth—inch closer to his scar. He’d somehow managed to avoid it for the few months since it had healed completely, and now someone was going to touch it and kiss it and who knows what else. Frederick was more self-conscious of that goddamn scar than any other place on his body, so much so that he wouldn’t even look at it in a mirror, but now someone— _and not just anyone!_ Frederick thought. _The gorgeous Jonas Nightengale!_ His voice almost sounded like the announcer’s in his head—now someone was going to get up close and personal with that disgusting souvenir of his. Frederick felt his hands move to cover Jonas’s on the last button before the top of his scar.

Jonas pulled away to look at him with a hint of confusion before realizing half a second later. Kissing a spot on Frederick’s cheek close to his ear, Jonas whispered, “Hey, no judgments, remember?” He kissed Frederick on the lips again to comfort him, which evidently worked when he dropped his hands to Jonas’s thighs to squeeze at them gently. Jonas’s hands moved again and Frederick tried to calm his heart rate as he felt his shirt slowly open. He was grateful when Jonas didn’t stop to look down at his stomach and instead just started kissing down his chest, pulling apart the last few buttons and opening the shirt further.

Just before he got to the beginning of the scar, though, Jonas stopped and pulled away to study the pink raised line on his partner’s stomach. Frederick’s ears reddened and his eyes closed in slight humiliation until he felt Jonas’s fingers carefully trace down towards his belly button. He couldn’t hold back the shaky exhale that resulted from Jonas’s touches. Jonas slid his fingers up and down, gently skating over the scar as he looked down, his mouth slightly open in awe. Frederick didn’t know how to feel about this, and he wanted to pull Jonas back into a kiss just so he would stop staring at him, but he didn’t need to when Jonas started trailing kisses down his chest. He rested back against the arm of the chair and tangled his fingers in Jonas’s hair as his mouth moved closer to Frederick’s nipple.

“God, Jonas,” Frederick whispered when Jonas’s tongue slid over it. He let his head fall back slightly and gave a sharp pull on the dark hair between his fingers when he felt Jonas’s teeth on him again. Hints of a smile brushed Frederick’s skin as Jonas trailed down towards his stomach, and it took a moment for Frederick to realize he was going for his scar. He wanted to stop him—to say something or touch him or just pull him back up into a kiss—but before he got the chance, Jonas gently pressed his lips against where Gideon had started sliding the scalpel into him.

A small moan escaped Frederick’s mouth and he looked down towards Jonas to see his eyes locked onto him. They had grown teasingly dark with mischief and lust, making Jonas look like the hottest fucking thing Frederick had ever seen. Jonas lightly scraped his teeth over the middle of the scar, Frederick’s hips involuntarily jerking up in an attempt to rub against Jonas’s chest. Jonas bit his lip and smiled before giving the end of the scar just above Frederick’s belly button a light kiss. Frederick slid his hands down to cup Jonas’s jaw and pull him up to his lips. Pushing their mouths together with needy roughness, Frederick stretched out the leg that was tucked under him so Jonas was right in the middle.

Jonas groaned deep in his throat and started making small circles with his hips, grinding down on Frederick’s groin. He toyed with Frederick, slowly teasing Frederick’s tongue and confined cock with just hints of what he knew he needed. Frederick made small scratches in Jonas’s back, not realizing he was only encouraging him to go slower. One of Jonas’s hands came up to pinch at Frederick’s nipple while the other pressed into the thicker skin of his scar. Frederick’s skin felt hot and his body moved without thought. If he’d been able to form a coherent thought, he would have taken control and pushed Jonas into the other room instead of just rutting against him like a horny teenager. Frederick’s ears picked up the whiny moans hardly being muffled by Jonas’s mouth and they sounded like they came from someone else. A wet patch stuck the silky material of Frederick’s boxers to him and he realized how long it had been since _that_ happened. His body was hypersensitive under Jonas’s touch but he still felt a hunger burning for more. Frederick’s nails dragged down Jonas’s lower back until they got to his belt. Moving of their own accord, Frederick’s fingers grabbed Jonas’s ass and pushed his down harder.

Jonas’s lips curled up in a little smile as a short breath blew out of his nose. He pulled away just enough to look Frederick in the eye and quietly ask, “Bed?”

Frederick didn’t speak, only answering Jonas by nodding and taking his jaw in his hands to kiss him again.

When Jonas pulled away to stand and help Frederick to his feet, the ability to think hit Frederick again and he felt himself fall back to earth. The room crashed around him as he was jerked back into reality, suddenly torn from the bubble that had surrounded him and Jonas and blocked everything out. Frederick only noticed that he had been looking around the room when Jonas steadied his face in his hands and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Okay?” Jonas asked quietly when he broke away. _Okay?_ Frederick was kissing one of the most beautiful men he had ever seen who was not only sweet and funny but actually seemed to like him back and want to be with him. He wouldn’t have been able to put into words how he felt, but he was surely better than “okay.”

Frederick didn’t answer—only pulled Jonas closer by the belt loops and kissed him hard. Jonas pulled Frederick’s fingers from his belt and laced his own fingers between them. He stepped back to lead Frederick into the other room, still holding one of his hands. The door led into a slightly more ornate room dimly lit by a lamp on the side table either Jonas or the maid must’ve left on. A large white headboard with gold accents stood behind what Frederick assumed was a king size bed. Delicate white molding with a pinstripe of gold wrapped around the room and matched the bureau across from the foot of the bed where Jonas steered Frederick. The backs of his calves were flush against the end of the bed and Frederick dropped his hands to Jonas’s belt, hastily tearing open the buckle with nervous fingers.

“Freddy, hey,” Jonas put a hand over Frederick’s after they messily tore open the zipper. “Just relax, okay?” Jonas said with a reassuring smile before kissing Frederick’s neck again. “Let me,” he said into Frederick’s skin.

Frederick slid his hands to Jonas’s hips and tried to relax into the touches on his neck and at his waistband. His breath came heavier and he pressed his fingertips harder into Jonas’s flesh at the feeling of the top of his pants opening.

“Lie down, sweetheart,” Jonas whispered an inch from his ear.

Jonas didn’t need to repeat himself: Frederick complied immediately and scooted up the bed on his ass. Putting a knee in between Frederick’s legs, Jonas leaned over him to kiss his forehead, then lips. He kissed each of Frederick’s nipples and licked down his scar, his mouth getting rougher and messier as he inched his way downward. Frederick shoved a hand in Jonas’s hair and pulled harshly when he felt Jonas’s tongue just above his pants. Jonas stuck fingers under the bands of Frederick’s pants and boxers to tug them down, his lips and tongue planting hot kisses over Frederick’s hips. Pushing them up, Frederick urged more contact from Jonas, who took the opportunity to yank the material in his hands down to Frederick’s knees. Frederick lifted his feet from the bed and let Jonas pull the fabric off his legs and toss it on the floor before stopping and looking down at the man laid out before him.

“You’re so beautiful, Frederick.” Jonas spread his fingers on Frederick’s hips and kissed his scar. Frederick felt a blush rise in his already warm skin and put a gentle hand in Jonas’s hair. The soothing touch turned into a sharp pull when Jonas took the head of his cock in his mouth.

“Fuck, Jonas,” Frederick whined out, trying to push his hips up farther. Jonas’s grip tightened and he looked up at Frederick just to watch him squirm. They had only just begun, but already he was quite a sight: cheeks flushed, mouth open, eyes dark and looking back at Jonas, silently begging him for more. Staring back at him before closing his eyes and moaning around the cock in his mouth, Jonas was quite the sight himself. Frederick propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look at Jonas sliding further down his cock. Jonas’s hands slid from Frederick’s hips to push his knees up so his feet were planted on the bed. One hand crept to the back of Frederick’s thigh before disappearing and then reappearing as a gentle swipe over his hole while Jonas sucked harder.

“Fucking _Christ_ , Jonas,” Frederick gasped out. Jonas pulled off to kiss down his shaft.

“Good, _Doctor_?” Jonas said with a sly smile as his fingers danced over the spot again.

Frederick ran his fingers through Jonas’s hair and nodded, answering with a whine, his mind too far gone to find words to acknowledge the title. Jonas kissed the inside of his thigh and Frederick felt his body move with impatience. Bending to get Jonas’s jaw in his hands, Frederick kissed him urgently and pulled Jonas on top of him. The rough zipper of Jonas’s pants scraped against Frederick’s hip and he realized he wanted them off. Frederick stuck his thumbs under the waistbands to shove them down Jonas’s thighs. The two moaned into their kiss when Jonas’s cock fell heavy on Frederick’s flesh and they rutted against each other. Jonas pulled away and reached for the small drawer on the side table, taking out what sounded like the only thing in it. Flipping the cap, Jonas squeezed a generous amount of lube into his palm and wrapped it around his and Frederick’s cocks, sliding them together. Frederick whimpered at the feeling of Jonas’s fingers around him and his cock rubbing against him. He bit down on Jonas’s lip and dug his nails into his shoulder, hooking his legs around Jonas.

Jonas tightened his grip around the heads of their cocks before sliding his hand down to play with Frederick’s entrance. Frederick felt his head move in a nod and moaned, trying to push down on Jonas’s fingers. When they left Frederick’s skin after what felt like only a second, he made a sound of protest. Jonas shushed him and placed a kiss on his forehead before pouring a little more lube on his fingers. He pushed Frederick’s knees back a little and returned his fingers to where Frederick wanted, pushing in teasingly slow. Planting his free hand to one side of Frederick’s head, Jonas leaned over him to bite at his neck. Frederick relaxed and urged the finger deeper inside, slightly rocking down on it. Jonas barely moved, being a little too careful for Frederick’s liking.

“Faster,” Frederick breathed into Jonas’s ear. Jonas moved only slightly faster and scraped his teeth over Frederick’s Adam’s apple, earning a tug of his hair. Jonas groaned at the pull and pumped his finger faster, taking one of Frederick’s nipples between his teeth and rutting against his thigh. Frederick bit down hard on his lip and pushed against Jonas to ask for more. Jonas understood and fit another finger in with the first, moving it quickly after allowing Frederick just a moment to adjust.

Fire crawled through Frederick’s veins and raised a heat under his skin. His cock leaked on his stomach and mixed with the sheen of sweat forming under the line of hair trailing from his belly button. Jonas’s fingers moved further inside him and Frederick angled his hips to get a brush against his prostate. Frederick swore and felt his back arching on the bed. Jonas put his weight on his knees and scraped a nail down the scar as he hit the same spot again. Frederick’s breaths came heavier and his cock ached for contact, but he was too afraid he would come in two seconds if he wrapped his hand around it. Without warning, Jonas shoved a third finger in, rougher than the last two, and Frederick gasped at the stretch. Fingertips of Jonas’s other hand dug into Frederick’s hip and he pushed his fingers roughly into him.

When he was alone, Frederick would normally take it slow, teasing himself open with his fingers and then thrusting the dildo he’d been too embarrassed to buy in a shop in and out for hours, his fingers messy with lube on the vibrate controls. By himself, he could (and did) easily spend entire afternoons fucking the toy into his ass in a multitude of positions and denying his cock the friction it needed. With Jonas, though, Frederick felt impatient and hot, unable to control himself in the way he usually could. The itch for release grew worse with each push of Jonas’s fingers and Frederick couldn’t take it any longer.

“Jonas—God—fuck me,” he pleaded. Jonas squeezed Frederick’s hip once more and lean down to kiss the head of his cock as he pulled his fingers free. Frederick whined and pulled Jonas up into a kiss. Jonas rocked his hips down and ran his hand up Frederick’s side before pulling away and reaching for the condom he’d abandoned earlier on the top of the table. Kicking off the pants he’d forgotten around his knees, Jonas tore open the package and rolled it on.

Frederick wasn’t sure whether or not the condom was really necessary, but he appreciated the thought regardless. He also appreciated Jonas slathering on more lube just to be sure he wouldn’t hurt him. Frederick thought of how surprisingly (and sometimes teasingly) gentle Jonas had been that entire evening and was reminded of the loud, overconfident asshole who strutted around the stage conning people. He realized then how much of an act “Reverend Jonas Nightengale” was for just “Jonas” to put on, and he hoped to hang around long enough to see just how much of Reverend Nightengale stayed with Jonas after he hung up the leather pants.

All thought vanished from Frederick’s mind, however, when he felt Jonas begin to slowly push into him. Frederick kissed him hard and tightened his legs around him in an attempt to pull him closer. Scraping his nails on the back of Jonas’s scalp, Frederick tried to hide the shiver that went down his arms when he felt Jonas’s cock fully inside him. He kissed Frederick’s collarbone and kept still, seemingly trying to allow Frederick a chance to relax, but only making him more impatient.

“Christ Jonas, _move_ ,” Frederick said a little harsher than he meant it, his voice rough with need.

“Oh-ho, bossy Freddy,” Jonas said with a smile and good-natured tone of mocking. He bit down on Frederick’s shoulder and started thrusting into him before speaking right into Frederick’s ear. “I like it.”

The hot breath in his ear made his cock pulse, but Frederick tried to keep this “bossiness” up. “Oh just shut up and fuck me, pretty boy.”

Jonas smiled and shushed over Frederick’s mouth before kissing him again. Pushing into him harder than before, Jonas groaned against his lips. Frederick’s skin got stickier with sweat and the slide of Jonas inside him made his cock ache even more. A desire to fuck Jonas for as long as he usually fucked himself burned in his chest, but was overcome by his body’s reactions to Jonas having most of the control. Jonas tore away from the kiss and before Frederick could react, the pillow next to him was stuffed under his hips to prop them up. Frederick moaned at the new angle and wondered why he didn’t think to do that himself like he would on his own bed. Jonas’s cock hit him in just the right way to make Frederick feel himself getting closer. The rough slide inside him made Frederick dig his nails into the thicker skin of Jonas’s back, secretly wanting Jonas to put a hand around his cock.

“God, Freddy, you feel so good…so good for me,” Jonas mumbled, licking at the dip in Frederick’s neck. A hand slowly slid down Frederick’s scar and continued down his stomach before wrapping around his cock. Jonas’s thumb teased over the head as he whispered into Frederick’s ear. “Wanna make you come, baby.”

Frederick whimpered and just barely squeaked out, “Fuck, Jonas, please,” before falling into moans and gasps. Jonas made his thrusts harder and faster, losing rhythm as he got closer himself. Frederick felt a pressure building deep in his muscles as Jonas punctuated thrusts with pulls on his cock. He would’ve liked to tell Jonas how good his hand felt around him, how he loved his cock pounding into him with a sweet roughness, but his mind was numbed and he couldn’t find the words. Biting down on his lip and breathing heavily, Frederick felt his orgasm coming on slow until it hit him all at once. He filled the room with a loud moan and sent cum shooting onto his scar. He tightened his legs around Jonas, his ass clenching around his moving cock. Frederick’s muscles were tight and he rode it out, keeping his hands firm on Jonas’s back.

As Frederick came back down, he realized how messy Jonas’s hips had gotten compared to the gentle, calculated ones he’d started with and knew he was close. Jonas wrapped his arms around Frederick’s torso and buried his face in the crook of his neck, whimpering into it. Lacing his fingers in Jonas’s hair, Frederick pulled slightly and whispered, “Come for me, Jonas.”

Jonas curled his fingers and dug his nails into Frederick’s back as a whine broke in the back of his throat and his hips stuttered. Hot, heavy breaths skated over Frederick’s neck and he smoothed his fingers through Jonas’s hair, slowly coaxing him down from his climax. Once his breathing had begun to slow, Frederick kissed Jonas’s cheek as he gave one final thrust. Jonas smiled at the sentiment and kissed Frederick on the lips before pulling out and hopping off the bed to toss the condom in the trash basket of the adjoining bathroom. He returned with a few of tissues to clean off Frederick’s stomach and kissed his forehead as he handed them over.

Jonas watched Frederick wipe up the mess and climbed on the bed to lie on his side next to him. “You really are beautiful, you know,” Jonas said as Frederick wiped over his scar one last time and put the used bundle of tissues on the table next to him.

Frederick scoffed at the quiet statement. Not because he didn’t believe Jonas was serious, but because he couldn’t see himself that way. Jonas put a hand on his cheek and turned Frederick’s face toward his.

“I’m serious, Frederick,” Jonas said, looking into his eyes before placing a gentle kiss to Frederick’s lips.

When he pulled away, Jonas put an arm around Frederick, who rested his head on Jonas’s chest. The two took a minute to breathe, and Frederick felt content in their shared silence. Jonas’s hand absentmindedly stroked Frederick’s upper arm gently ad Frederick’s head rose with Jonas’s chest as he breathed calmly.

“I’ll tell Sam tomorrow.”

Frederick felt the words through Jonas’s chest before he comprehended them. When he did, he realized Jonas had changed his promise from “I’ll talk to Sam” to “I’ll tell Sam,” which made Frederick feel like it didn’t matter anymore what Sam gave him for an answer. But maybe that was just him reading too much into things. Frederick turned on his side to reach up and kiss Jonas.

“Thank you,” Frederick said over Jonas’s lips after he broke the kiss. Vocally, he was thanking him for saying he would tell Sam, but his words carried the weight of a heavier thank you for everything Jonas had given him over their short time together. Frederick settled back down with his head on Jonas’s chest and felt exhaustion crawl over him. It was surely late, but the room didn’t have an alarm clock ( _What the fuck kind of bedroom doesn’t have an alarm clock?_ ) so there was no telling how late it actually was. Frederick found himself not caring with Jonas smoothing a hand through his hair and, judging by his breathing, getting close to sleep himself. He let exhaustion win and the calm take over as he drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

 

Title and such from [Anchor](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u1FOWRQL6hM) by The Dangerous Summer


	4. This Feels Right, and I'm Letting It

And please do not hurt me, love,  
I am a fragile one, and you are the white in my eyes  
Please do not break my heart,  
I think it's had enough pain to last the rest of my life

* * *

Birds tweeting outside the window and fingers brushing through Frederick’s hair pulled him out of sleep. It took a minute for his groggy mind to clear and realize his surroundings: Frederick was on his side facing Jonas and using his forearm like a pillow, which Jonas didn’t seem to mind. Frederick also realized it looked pretty late in the morning, judging by how bright it looked outside through the little gap in the curtains. He didn’t expect to sleep as well as he did, and was surprised he didn’t wake up at least once during the night. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t, though, because he probably would’ve found a way to convince himself to leave. He looked up at Jonas who was on his side facing him and smiling. Frederick was glad he’d slept like a rock that night.

“Morning,” Jonas said quietly before pressing a kiss to Frederick’s forehead. Frederick felt his cheeks heat up a little at the sweet touch and gentleness in Jonas’s voice.

“G’morning,” Frederick whispered over Jonas’s lips to warrant another kiss. Jonas moved closer, pressing their bodies together and sighing into the kiss. His fingertips skated over Frederick’s torso in soothing patterns as he gave Frederick delicate little kisses, seemingly trying to decide after each one if he’d had enough, and apparently coming to the conclusion that he hadn’t. Frederick would’ve stayed there for as long as either of them liked, but something pulled him away. He tried to reassure Jonas that everything was okay with a kiss on the cheek, but his uneasiness came through just slightly on his face. “D’you mind if I use the bathroom?”

“No, of course not,” Jonas replied, his hand making a small gesture to the door. Frederick kissed his temple and rolled off the bed, grabbing the clothes he’d forgotten on the floor. He hadn’t even remembered throwing his shirt on top, but there it was, the most wrinkled article of clothing in the bunch. But right now, Frederick didn’t care. He felt Jonas’s eyes watch him slip into the other room and he felt strangely exposed. 

He placed the ball of clothes on the edge of the sink and stared into the oval mirror. His eyes looked well-rested, but his hair was a goddamn mess. Combing his fingers through it helped only a little and Frederick quickly decided to give up. He just then realized he’d had to pee for longer than he’d care to know, and lifted the lid.

Frederick couldn’t help thinking about Jonas’s talk with Sam that was sure to take place this evening. _This is actually going to happen_ , Frederick thought. _This guy you barely even fucking know is going to tell his sister to fuck off so he can stay with you. Why? Why would he change his life for **you** ,Frederick? What if he’s not who you think he is? What if he just wants to screw you over, too? Who knows what this man has done in the past, and you’re just gonna let him on into your life, just like that, after just having met him not even two full days ago? _Frederick put the lid down a little harder than he meant to and hit the handle on the back as he tried to shoo away the thoughts. _Where is he even going to live?_ That wasn’t a bad question. Jonas kept saying he would stay, but where would he actually live? That didn’t have to be Frederick’s problem, but he would still worry about it. Frederick washed his hands with the little soap on the sink that left his hands smelling good and pulled on his clothes. He didn’t bother with the boxers and only shoved them into one of his pants pockets. _What is he even going to do for a job?_ Frederick vaguely remembered Jonas saying something about how long he’d been on the road. He’d probably never had a real, honest job in his life. It wasn’t like Frederick didn’t make enough money to support them both, if it came to that, but he’d rather have Jonas keep busy regardless of the money. _You’re so willing to let him in, but what if he just hurts you?_ Maybe that was the risk Frederick had to take. He didn’t know what their relationship would be like or how he even wanted that relationship to be, but maybe it was worth a shot. There wasn’t much he could lose, at this point.

Frederick didn’t bother buttoning his shirt all the way up and opened the door to find Jonas in wrinkled boxers and messy hair, digging through a mostly-empty top drawer of the dresser. Whatever he’d been looking for, he stopped when he heard the bathroom door click shut. Jonas looked disheveled as ever, but Frederick would be lying if he said his dick didn’t take notice of Jonas’s state. He smiled that gorgeous smile and pulled on some black sweatpants (which somehow reminded Frederick of the leather pants he saw him in on the first night), asking if Frederick wanted anything to eat.

“We could order something or go out, if you wanted.” The tone in Jonas’s voice was light, like he was up for whatever Frederick wanted.

“No,” Frederick heard the roughness in his voice and cleared his throat. “No, I’m alright.” He stood there awkwardly, picking at the threads holding on one of his shirt buttons.

“C’mon, Freddy, you should eat something.” Jonas walked over and put his hands on Frederick’s upper arms.

“I’m okay, really,” Frederick tried to say confidently, yet unconvincingly. “Besides, I’m kinda a..vegan…uh, because of…” Frederick gestured to his stomach and flushed red.

“Oh!” Jonas exclaimed as if he were stupid for not expecting that. “Of course.”

“Yeah so it can be hard sometimes to find food that’s totally vegan…I’m still kind of getting used to it.” It was especially difficult to get used to when Frederick never went out anywhere.

“Don’t worry, darlin’.” Jonas kissed him reassuringly, holding Frederick’s face in his hands. “I have some fruit in the fridge, would you want some of that?”

Frederick did his best to smile and nod, which made Jonas happily kiss him on the nose. Jonas led him into the next room and Frederick felt the effects of last night’s long walk on his body, but he tried not to let Jonas see. Jonas pulled open the fridge to take out an apple and an orange. He held one in each hand and looked at Frederick with raised eyebrows, moving his hands up and down like a balance scale as if to ask which Frederick preferred. Frederick smiled and went to reach for the orange, which Jonas promptly pulled away teasingly. Pushing out his bottom lip in a pout, Frederick crossed his arms over his chest. Jonas simply smiled and gave him the orange before turning back to grab a bottle of water he’d left in the fridge. Frederick took the opportunity to sit down on the couch, opposite to where he’d left his jacket the night before. Anxiety balled in his chest as he remembered things he wanted to say to Jonas. He tried to think of a way to put his thoughts into words that wouldn’t sound too harsh, but they ended up tumbling out of his mouth too quickly anyway.

“Jonas, I’m not sure about this.” Frederick stared down at the fruit in his hands and picked at the skin nervously.

“What do you mean?” Jonas asked cautiously, taking a seat next to Frederick and keeping his eyes on him.

Frederick took a moment to breathe. He felt like a frightened little child, even in Jonas’s comforting presence. “Well, what if things don’t work out?” His voice sounded quieter and smaller than he’d wanted, and tried to remedy this by saying “What are you gonna do?” trying and failing to sound like he was more worried about Jonas’s fate than his own if things didn’t work out (because surely if they didn’t, it would be Jonas to leave him, and not the other way around).

The corners of Jonas’s mouth just barely turned up in a smile and it was clear he’d realized what Frederick had tried to do. “I’m hoping they do, and that’s enough for me.” Jonas put a gentle hand on Frederick’s knee.

“We still barely even know each other though,” Frederick said as he peeled a strip off the orange in his hand and dropped it on the coffee table.

“I don’t care, Freddy. I _want_ to know you.” Jonas stroked his thumb over a wrinkle in Frederick’s pants. “If I stay and you break my heart, I’ll still be better for knowing you than leaving you. Besides, I’m getting too old for this job.”

Frederick met Jonas’s eyes while his hands continued to fiddle with the orange peel. He knew what Jonas meant about feeling old. “Yeah, but Sam’s your family—”

“Which is why I’m hoping she’ll understand.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Then that’s her problem and she can figure it out by herself.” Jonas’s words seemed harsh, but Frederick knew he didn’t mean them to be.

“Don’t throw away your family for _me_.”

“I’m not, Frederick.” Jonas let out a short sigh and Frederick could tell he didn’t like him trying to contradict reasons to stay. “I’m not leaving her, I’m just staying behind. If she decides to stay with me, that’s fine, but it’s up to her now. She can make her own decisions. The only person I need to be okay with this is you.”

Frederick peeled apart the segments of his orange. “I just don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.” They both knew he meant he didn’t want to regret letting Jonas stay, too.

Jonas smiled and took one of Frederick’s hands in his to make him look up. “Freddy, I’ve done a lot of regretful things in my life, believe me, but I won’t regret giving this a chance. And I hope you won’t either.”

Frederick tried to smile as genuinely as he could and pulled Jonas in for a kiss. He didn’t know what to expect from this whole situation, but he didn’t care anymore. Not as long as they were both comfortable and happy. That thought reminded Frederick of something and he broke their kiss. “Where are you going to stay?” He asked, caressing Jonas’s cheek with his thumb.

“I’ll find a place. I have enough saved up to get me through until I can find a job, and if Sam wants to stay, we can split the rent and it’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry, Freddy.”

Frederick scoffed quietly. Of course he was going to worry. The scoff did not go unnoticed and Jonas kissed Frederick again until he felt a smile tugging at his lips. Frederick wanted to tell Jonas thank you. For what, he didn’t know. Jonas placed a lingering kiss to his forehead and Frederick felt a calm deep in his limbs.

“I’ll call a cab to bring you back to your car, okay?” Jonas said quietly. Frederick nodded in reply and watched Jonas get up to grab his phone. While waiting for the car to arrive, the two ate and talked about the upcoming show (during which Frederick felt the need to roll his eyes at Jonas’s excitement to take people’s money). When the car arrived, Jonas helped Frederick up off the couch and grabbed his wallet.

“No, no, Jonas, it’s fine I got it,” Frederick’s protests spilled messily out of his mouth as he put up a hand to push away the money being handed to him.

“C’mon Freddy—”

Frederick shushed him and put his hands on Jonas’s bare hips to pull him in for a kiss. Moaning quietly, Jonas leaned into the kiss and pressed his body to Frederick’s. With all the willpower he had, Frederick pulled back to say, “I should go,” with a quiet sigh. Jonas nodded slightly and walked around Frederick to grab his coat and cane from where they were abandoned the night before. Frederick took his eyes off Jonas to fix the tucking on his shirt and stuff last night’s tie into a front pocket of his pants. Handing the coat over awkwardly, Jonas watched him shove his arms into the wrinkled sleeves and smooth down the collar before taking the cane from him. “Thanks,” Frederick told him quietly, taking a step towards Jonas and the door.

Jonas smiled in return and held out a hand towards Frederick. “I’ll walk you down.”

“Do you want to at least put on a shirt first?” Frederick asked, breaking into a smile.

Pretending to think about it for half a second, Jonas’s eyes glanced up towards the crown molding before returning to Frederick’s face. “Nah, I’m fine,” Jonas said with a big smile that made Frederick’s heart beat a little faster. Tugging on the lapels of Frederick’s jacket, Jonas pulled him closer for a kiss. Frederick felt himself relax into Jonas’s touches and realized how much he didn’t want to leave. When Jonas pulled away, he rested his forehead against Frederick’s and looked into his eyes. “I can’t wait to see you tonight,” Jonas whispered, allowing a smile to play on his lips.

“Me either,” Frederick replied quietly. Jonas kissed his forehead and Frederick’s cheeks got slightly pinker. Grabbing the room key he’d forgotten on the table, Jonas linked his arm with Frederick’s and the two walked into the hall together. In the elevator, they stood in silence: Jonas’s arm around Frederick’s waist, his thumb absentmindedly stroking a seam of the jacket. Letting his head fall to Jonas’s shoulder, Frederick closed his eyes and felt his body relax into a deep lull. Jonas turned his head and went up on his toes, making himself as tall as he could be without shoes to kiss the top of Frederick’s head. The attempt made Frederick smile and Jonas pulled him close to his chest, wrapping his other arm around Frederick’s back. Jonas’s skin felt warm and Frederick forgot for a moment how short elevator rides can be until he heard the ping radiate off the metal on the walls and the doors start to open.

Frederick pulled himself off of Jonas a little too quickly and looked through the open doorway to the lobby. Kissing his cheek, Jonas guided him out of the elevator with a hand on Frederick’s back. “See you tonight, Freddy,” Jonas said quietly as Frederick stepped over the threshold.

“Bye,” he replied in a sweet tone that made a corner of Jonas’s lips turn up. Frederick stared down at his feet as he walked out the door, not wanting to chance a look back at Jonas. Hopping into the back of the car, Frederick told the driver where his car was parked and buckled his seat belt. The woven nylon dug into Frederick’s stomach and pressed down his jacket, but it didn’t bother him. A sense of contentedness hummed in his body from the belief that everything could work out and things would be okay this time. Frederick stared out the window and half-smiled to himself. There was even the potential for things to be better than okay. It didn’t matter that he’d only known Jonas for a couple days or that there weren’t set living arrangements yet or that the whole thing could be considered insane. In that car, Frederick realized he just didn’t give a shit anymore about what anyone might think or any possible downsides to this decision because his potential happiness outweighed any cons his mind could cook up.

The drive felt a little too short for Frederick’s liking and soon they had arrived at his car where he’d parked it only the night before. Was it only the night before? It felt like it had been days. Reaching for the brown leather bi-fold in his jacket, Frederick found a wad of bills hastily stuffed in the pocket on top of his wallet. Smiling at the money Jonas had sneaked in there, Frederick smoothed it out and handed more than he owed to the driver. Either Jonas had overcompensated for the fee or he just wanted to tease Frederick about not letting him pay the night before, because even after paying for the ride and giving a generous tip, he was left with a few bills. Promptly sticking them back in his pocket, he made a mental note to slip them to Jonas later. Frederick got into his own car and panicked for a second, thinking he’d misplaced his keys in all the events of the previous night and this morning. Luckily, they were still in his pocket and he could breathe a sigh of relief. Turning the radio to something he could hum to, Frederick pulled away from the curb and enjoyed a leisurely drive home to get ready for the show.

* * *

 

When the elevator closed, Jonas was left looking at a blurred reflection of himself in the metal doors. He let his head fall against the back wall and tried to control his breathing. Anxiety ran alongside excitement through his veins, like they were racing to see which would overcome each other to fill Jonas completely. He knew he had to find Sam, and soon, as the afternoon had already begun and preparations for the final shows always started earlier. The elevator arrived at his floor and Jonas stepped out, secretly hoping no one would see him and distract him from trying to find the right way to explain things. He made it to his door successfully and slid the card through the metal box above the door handle, waiting until the light turned green to push down on the handle. The inside of the room seemed different to Jonas. Nothing looked out of place, but it felt different, almost lonely, as he walked through to the bedroom. The disheveled bed reminded him of Frederick curled up against him earlier that morning, his slow, even breaths and little snores every now and then making Jonas not want to wake him. It also reminded him that he had to get out of bed very quickly and quietly to deny maid service at 7:00 in the goddamn morning (his tone of voice must’ve made her not want to come back, but that was alright with Jonas).

Leaving the bed as it was, Jonas stripped and went to the bathroom to turn on the shower. Little droplets of water pelted the shower floor with good pressure and Jonas took the opportunity to pee while the water heated up. When he pushed back the curtain and stepped in, Jonas felt his muscles relax and his nerves calm slightly. Taking his time, Jonas tried not to worry about what Sam’s reaction might be. As much as he said he didn’t care, Sam was still his sister and Jonas couldn’t help but care about what she thought. He scrubbed his hair of the product he’d put in the previous afternoon, his mind immediately going to Freddy once he closed his eyes. Just in the plain jacket and pants, he’d looked incredible to Jonas. He remembered how his heart pounded when he saw him sitting in the crowd and standing in the hallway and across the table at the restaurant and even walking out of the bathroom in wrinkled clothes that morning. Jonas wondered if Frederick had seen through the thin veil of him trying to play it cool, but then he realized he didn’t care. Running the soap over his skin, he thought of Frederick’s smile and how easily he blushed when Jonas kissed him. It was adorable, if Jonas were being honest, and he felt a smile tugging at his mouth as water pelted his back and ran down his thighs.

When he felt clean enough, Jonas turned the dial of the shower to OFF and grabbed the towel he didn’t use yesterday. He’d forgotten that no maid also meant no fresh towels, but this one would do just fine, and it was clean enough. Quickly taking a blow-dryer to his hair just to get some of the wetness out, he watched the mirror defog so he could clearly see himself. He gave his reflection a short glance and turned off the dryer before dropping his towel to the floor and walking back to the dresser in the bedroom. A part of him wanted to wear nicer clothes, but his laziness got the better of him and he pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Sticking his feet in a pair of sneakers, Jonas left his hotel room again to find Sam.

First, he tried her room in the hotel, but there was no answer when he knocked on the door. Luckily, one of the Angels saw him at the door and informed him that Sam had already left to go to the arts center. Jonas gave a heavy sigh and a slightly annoyed, “Okay, thank you,” while looking at his watch to see that it was still relatively early. Nevertheless, Jonas walked quickly through the hotel and decided he could also walk to the old building where he expected to find his sister. It seemed a little colder out today, as the sun had begun hiding behind the clouds, but Jonas took time to enjoy the walk anyway. He decided to try a shorter route than he and Frederick had taken the night before, but it ended up feeling longer anyway since he was alone. Suddenly he wanted Frederick’s hand in his, Frederick’s quiet presence next to him, Frederick’s smile making Jonas’s heart nearly skip a beat. Suddenly he ached for Frederick’s company. The emptiness beside him growing more palpable, Jonas unconsciously picked up his pace and made it to the building in good time.

His pulse had grown a little quick with anxiety, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Jonas figured he’d check the stage first, and went through the back doors of the auditorium. The house looked so much bigger and the stale smell of the old room seemed stronger without all the desperate people filling the seats. Crew members scurried across the stage, each on their own separate mission to set things up and make sure everything was working correctly. Jonas knew it was a pain in the ass to put most of the equipment back in the trucks every night, but he wouldn’t have a repeat of what happened in New Mexico when they came back to the tent the next day to find some things taken and others demolished. Towards the middle of the stage, Sam stood with her back facing the audience, headset already hanging around her neck with the cord running to the transmitter clipped to her back pocket. She waved her hands to direct where she wanted the Angels’ risers as someone at the light board fiddled with the fresnels (Jonas had specifically requested they use them because he thought they made him look like he had a “holy, Jesus glow”).

“Sam!” Jonas said, a little too quietly it seemed when she didn’t turn around. Taking bigger steps, Jonas repeated himself. “ _Sam!_ ” He got her attention and she turned around just as he was hopping up the front stage steps.

“Well you’re here early,” Sam said flatly, checking the time on her phone.

Jonas gave a tight-lipped smile and shrugged as he stepped closer to his sister. “Actually, uh, can I talk to you for a second?” Jonas said quietly, leaning closer to Sam’s ear.

“Uhm, can we do it later? I’m kinda busy here, setting up _your_ stage, Jonas.” She kept talking and scrolled through something on her phone, not noticing Jonas wanting to speak. “I’ve got a good feeling about tonight, though. We’ve been doin’ really good the past couple nights and tonight could be great as long as you bring your A-game tonight.”

“Sam I can’t do this.” The words rushed out of Jonas’s mouth like water busting through a dam. He didn’t mean to word it like that or say it that fast, but at least he’d said something. Sam finally looked up from her phone with an unamused expression written across her face. Jonas worried his voice had been too loud, but if anyone aside from Sam had heard him, they didn’t show it and continued on with their work.

“What’re ya talking about, Jonas? C’mon, you’re charming enough, just put on the tightest pair of pants you got and flirt with them a bit – you’ll be fine.” She seemed nearly unaffected by Jonas’s words and started typing out a message, her nails tapping on the glass screen.

That wasn’t the response Jonas was expecting, or wanted, for that matter. “No, I mean,” Jonas paused and sighed, seeing Sam’s eyes read a small paragraph of text. Taking half a step closer, Jonas put a hand on his sister’s upper arm to bring her attention back to him. She looked back up at him and yanked her arm free.

 “I can’t go on to the next town, Sam,” Jonas admitted, slightly disappointed and angry when he saw Sam hardly resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “It’s just one after the other, after the other. I mean, don’t you get tired of it all? Don’t you want to stop and find something real?”

“Oh please, Jonas.” Sam did little to hide the annoyance in her voice and crossed her arms. “Where is this coming from?”

Jonas glanced down at his feet, trying to gather the courage to look his sister in the eyes. When he felt able, he said quietly, “Sam, I met someone.”

“Oh great, Jonas,” Sam said, her words heavy with sarcasm as she turned to walk toward the stage left backstage area. “What’s her name _this_ time?”

Jonas hurried behind, catching up to walk beside her close enough to speak quietly. “Frederick.”

“Goddamn it Jonas, really?” Sam stopped and turned to look at Jonas, the lights from the stage shining on half of her face, leaving the other half dark and shadowed and her expression difficult to read. “I knew I shouldn’t have encouraged you to ask him out,” she said under her breath, but still loud enough for Jonas to hear perfectly. “Don’t you remember what happened last time? When we all stayed because you thought you were in love with some guy you met the first night? Every _single_ one of us stayed in that shithole of a town for two goddamn weeks just for him to get bored with you and let you walk in to see another guy tied to the bed.”

“Fucking Christ, you don’t think I remember that, Sam?” Jonas got his face uncomfortably close to Sam’s to make sure he wouldn’t yell. “You don’t think I was damn near scared shitless to ask Frederick out? You don’t think I had that in the back of my mind the whole fucking _time?_ That this had the potential to fuck me over like that did?” He pulled back, straightening himself out and calming his tone at the thought of being with Frederick. “But he’s different. And I know that now. And I need to stay. He doesn’t have anyone, Sam. He’s been through more shit than we have and he doesn’t have anyone left.”

Sam crossed her arms again but looked down at her feet, making her already small frame look even smaller. When she looked up at Jonas again, some of the anger she’d carried in her brow had dissipated and the lit portion of her face looked a little softer. “Well what do you propose I do, lovebird?” Despite looking more forgiving than before, her tone was still a little harsh. “Am I supposed to just drop all my shit again and stay with you?”

Jonas let go of the tension he’s been holding in his chest with a heavy exhale. “That’s up to you. Stay, go, totally your choice. Hell,” Jonas broke into a smile. “You can even continue the family business if you want. Or, you can stay and get a real job like I’ll have to do.”

“And the Angels?”

Fuck. Jonas sighed as he realized he hadn’t fully thought of what they would do if Sam stayed with him. “The Angels can do as they please. I hate to say it because I care about them, I do, but it’s time. It’s over for me.” Smiling slightly, Jonas added, “Besides, I’m getting too old to squeeze myself into those goddamn leather pants.”

Letting out a quiet giggle, Sam let her hard exterior break and joked, “I’m sure _he_ liked you in those leather pants though.” Smiling wide enough to showcase his bright teeth, Jonas blushed and shrugged, even though he was sure the answer was “yes.” Letting the smile fade a bit from her face, Sam asked softly, “You’re really serious about him, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Jonas said with another sigh and smile. “I dunno, there’s something about him. I just, feel good when I’m with him, like anything that’s happened or that I did doesn’t matter, like I can be a better person because of him.”

“Jonas it’s been two days,” Sam said flatly.

“I know,” he answered, shoving his fingers in his front pockets and raising his shoulders in a shrug. “And I’m not saying we’re soulmates, but I want to find out where this could go. I know this is completely crazy—”

“Yes, you’re right—”

“But please try to understand, for me. I just…I want to give this a chance.” Jonas finished his speech and waited anxiously for Sam’s answer. What else could he say? Really, he knew this whole ordeal was ridiculous, to just drop everything for some guy, but Jonas himself was a ridiculous man. Yeah, this wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this, but the hope remained that it could be so much better this time. He knew he was putting a lot of trust in Frederick, but Frederick was probably putting even more trust in him, which meant he can’t fuck up, not this time. If Frederick was going to put this sort of trust in him, he couldn’t let him down.

Jonas looked at Sam and saw a change in her face and a shift in her thought, like she had seen everything that was weighing on her approval in Jonas’s eyes. “Jonas,” she finally said, her voice quiet and much calmer than before. “You’re my brother. Of course I want you to be happy. And if this is what’ll make you happy…well, I’m not going to stop you.”

Pulling her into his arms, Jonas squeezed Sam’s small shoulders tightly and smiled. His nerves buzzed and his stomach felt light with a strange excitement that everything was working out. Sure, they still had a lot of things to figure out, but the worst was over, and Jonas only had the show to worry about now. His last show. Jonas didn’t think it would happen this soon, or this suddenly, and the thought would be a little unsettling if it weren’t for the potential that came with choosing Frederick.

“Jonas, you’re crushing me,” Sam struggled to say.

Jonas came back to his senses and let her go to look at her, trying to down-play his relief and happiness. “So, what are you gonna do then?”

Putting a hand on her forehead, Sam looked back towards the stage where the colored lights were being tested. “I don’t know. I suppose we could just stay here another day or two and uh,” she held her hands on her hips and looked back to Jonas. “I guess I’ll have to decide while you get settled with your new boyfriend, huh?”

Rolling his eyes at the title, Jonas couldn’t help the slight blush that rose in his cheeks. “Well, I’m gonna stay in the hotel until I can find a place.”

“And if you can’t?”

“I’ll figure it out. But I don’t want to guilt Freddy into letting me stay with him. And if you _do_ decide to stay, we can always find a place together.” Jonas smiled and nudged Sam with his forearm.

Sam broke into a smile again as her eyes shifted to a scuff mark on the stretch of stage next to them. “Alright, Jonas. Just, make tonight’s show like, the best of any show we’ve ever done, okay? After all, it’s your last!” She gave him a smile but her eyes seemed a little sad.

“Yeah,” Jonas spoke softly, feeling strangely sad himself. “C’mon, help me pick out something special to wear.” He gestured to the dressing rooms on the other side of the back wall of the stage. “He’s coming tonight, y’know,” Jonas said with a smile as they walked further backstage.

“Oh, so I’ll actually get to meet this man of your dreams?” Sam joked, knocking her elbow into Jonas’s arm.

“I suppose…as long as you’re not too embarrassing,” Jonas said with a teasing tone, even though he was serious and absolutely would _not_ stand for Sam telling Frederick any mortifying stories from their childhood.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam said, shaking her head slightly. “We’ll see, big brother.”

The two walked to the dressing room that held Jonas’s things where Sam made him tell her all about the date the night before (Jonas sparing her the details, of course) as they went through racks and trunks of clothes.

* * *

 

I recently fell in love with Keaton Henson so the title for this chapter comes from [10 AM, Gare Du Nord](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8f9sMxzdFM)


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